I'm starting to think there's nothing funnier than a Christian family who doesn't indulge in expletives. We live in a world filled with them, and yet we don't say them, but there are times when you're caught up in a moment at a complete loss for words, and before you know it, you exclaim some back-up pseudo-expletive like:
"OH JUNK!" as my son did at the conclusion of a LOST episode.
Tonight, the 5th and final person in our family, my husband, finished season one of LOST. Since I had already seen the last episode, I decided to watch my husband watching the finale, because I knew it would be high entertainment. So the show gets to this very tense, scary part, and my husband, all wound up with a vicarious adrenaline rush, slaps his hand on his head and exclaims:
"Rack 'Em, Sack 'Em!"
You can't pay for entertainment like that. I mean my husband, not LOST.
Seriously, this show ... this show ... has us wrapped around its suspense-filled finger. (Trust me, the island has a finger.)
Evidence of our mental instability due to LOST:
The other day, a car pulled out in front of me, causing me to brake quickly. In my disbelief of this guy's gall, I said out loud, "Dude!"
When did I become Hurley?
Then my youngest was at school, and the subject of pregnancy came up, and she said all she could think of was Claire.
Lastly, my husband flew on business this week. As he sat on the plane, he noticed a squirrely looking guy--you know, a fidgety, surfer-looking guy, and he immediately thought of Charlie the junkie. Then he noticed an overhead compartment open a few rows ahead. Of course, in season one you see the poor marshall get thonked on the head from the debris falling out of the overhead over and over and over in flashbacks.
So we are now in a mad rush to consume season two, so that we can be closer to season three, because January 31st is the premiere of season four .... OH JUNK!