We are so far behind in our Netflix queue that I no longer remember why certain movies were added to the queue.
This explains why The Boy and I sat through a terribly depressing film the other evening.
When the final credits rolled, The Boy said: That was an awful film. I can’t believe we watched it. I can’t believe anyone made it. I can’t figure out what possessed you to put it in our queue.
I responded: I’m not sure why it was in our queue. I suppose I must have thought it sounded interesting.
Him: What on earth could someone have written to entice you? “In a land where giving your heart and soul has a whole new meaning…”? Or perhaps, “Young children, raised to have their organs harvested…yet against all odds, a couple falls in love only to be ripped apart by another round of surgeries.”
Me: I’m telling you, I just don’t know.
Him: So basically this evening, we went from watching The Greatest Movie Ever Sold to watching The Worst Movie Ever Made.