You may remember that I gave the girls permission to watch Downton Abbey a while ago, in fact just days before an episode which was so sad that I regretted having granted permission in the first place. Well, they love Downton Abbey, and we’ve already blown through two and a half seasons.
Tonight we finally watched an episode I’ve been dreading. I was trying to prepare them emotionally while not giving it away entirely. “Just remember,” I said, “That it’s only a story, and when characters die, it usually means that the actors who play them are doing so well getting great jobs that they just want to do something else for a change.”
M, who loves to make predictions, nailed it. She predicted the Very Sad Thing that would happen in the upcoming episode–declared it with the glee of someone sharing delicious gossip.
We made it through the show. M was just fine. It’s only a show, after all, and she was excited that she had guessed it ahead of time. But poor J was bereft. Here’s the pile of tissues that she produced:
And I know that there is more bad news ahead. I predict more tissues before winter break is over.