One of the many joys I had with my Mum was sharing our favourite television programs and movies. The one problem, however, is that Mum was always busy doing *something* -- toiling away in her garden, tending to her beloved dogs, baking -- and was hard to pin down. Getting her to sit and relax was a hard sell.
But when we did hit upon a gem of an entertainment nugget where she would stop and chill in front of the TV, it was simply brilliant. One such experience revolved around every gal's favourite quartet of girlfriends in 'Sex and the City.'
Mum didn't watch the series during its first TV run but we managed to get her all caught up via DVDs and its upteenth airing of repeats. Mum loved it! She adored the girly chat, the crazy situations they managed to find themselves entangled in, and of course, Mr. Big. She thought he was mighty fine and was so thrilled when Carrie eventually ended up happily ever after (at least at the conclusion of the first SATC flick) with her Manhattan prince.
At times I thought that the more risque language and adventures (looking at you, Samantha Jones!) might have been a bit much for Mum - she was such a polite, private woman - but it was silly to worry. Mum would laugh hysterically at their hi-jinx, never ever having an issue with any part of the show. And that's just like Mum. Just when I thought that I knew her fully, she would manage to surprise me.
The much anticipated second 'Sex and the City' movie opens this week. I will be going, and thinking of how much Mum would have loved it.