‘In Bruges’ is a particular favourite. Having already watched it at the cinema, I saw it on dvd when I was in hospital in 2009. My brother had lent me his portable dvd player. There was not a lot to do on neurology having just been diagnosed. Every so often doctors of all different levels would come to practise on me. Supposedly I was a particularly interesting case. I had just finished watching the film when one doctor came to ask me some cognition testing questions. You know the sort of thing.
What’s your name? What do an orange and an apple have in common? What’s the difference between a dwarf and a child? Hmmm, if you have seen ‘In Bruges’ you will understand how this last one led me into a rambling explanation as to why that is such an interesting question. It culminated in me recognising that the doctor probably didn’t want to hear about hit men in Belgium. My cognition was good enough to be able to give a more straightforward answer to do with people of restricted growth and young human beings.
I recently watched it again. MyMan hadn't seen it and I so wanted him to like it. Thankfully, he did. The film ends with mention of one word I definitely try not to use. Can you spot it here: 'In Bruges' last lines. It is still more than two months away but already it’s hard to avoid Christmas. Whoops! I used the C word.
In shops there are Christmas lights, Christmas cards, Christmas puddings. On TV there are Christmas ads. In households there are Christmas debates. The ones about who is going where and when. I have been spared most of these in recent years. Now I am laying low whilst MyMan debates and fumes about where his children will be on which day this Christmas and New Year. I will go along with whatever is agreed with his ex. I am avoiding use of a different C word.