Favorite thing #17: Watching a chick flick on DVD with the Hubby on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

As the years go by, it seems that I am becoming a more emotional person. While this may not necessarily be a negative thing in itself, it can be somewhat inconvenient at the theater. Watching “Finding Nemo” and crying into my popcorn isn’t exactly something I like to do in public. Especially since I am not the type that can shed a few tears gracefully. No, not me. Almost instantly, my eyes get red and puffy and my nose swells to twice its normal size, beaming brighter than Rudolph’s. Worse than that, I don’t recover from a cry very quickly. Can you imagine taking me to a nice dinner after seeing “The Notebook”? (Incidentally, I deliberately avoided seeing it because everyone told me what a tear-jerker it is.)

As a result, I rarely see “chick flicks” during their runs in the theater. I prefer to wait until they come out on DVD and see them in the privacy of my own home with a kleenex box by my side where I can sob and blow my nose without bothering anyone else — except Hubby, that is.

This afternoon, Hubby was watching some kind of annoying entertainment show on television about ridiculously extravagant gifts that celebrities give each other. Personally, watching the antics of the rich and famous don’t amuse me much, so I asked Hubby if he wanted to watch a movie. He agreed and I told him to pick one.

When I returned with refreshments, he had DVD’s laid out for me to pick from: “Dream of a Warrior” (a Korean sword-fighting, fantasy film) and “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.” Since I had read an extremely negative review about “Dream of a Warrior”, I chose “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants”. I was surprised that Hubby would even consider such an overtly chick-flickish film, but I suspected that it was because he wasn’t really selecting a movie that he wanted to see — but rather picked one with me in mind. He’s unselfish like that.

If you’ve seen the movie or read the book, you know that there are some very touching points in the film. Of course, true to form, my eyes were wet and puffy by the end of the movie. After a particularly heart-rending scene, Hubby would glance over to me and see me wiping my eyes and he would chuckle and give me a hug.

“That’s why I don’t like to watch chick flicks,” I said in between sobs.

“It’s good sometimes… to feel… and they make you think,” he replied and tenderly rubbed my back.

I’m glad that I have a husband who isn’t afraid to feel, to think… to watch a chick flick with his wife. I am blessed.

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