I was watching this movie (definitely a top 10 movie even though Butterfly McQueen makes me want to hurl a toaster at the tv) with Henry the other night. There was a part where the characters were scanning a list of the dead and wounded and he asked me one of those questions:
"How did the Civil War start?"
Ummm... being a Canadian and not being a scholar of American history (or anything, frankly), I had to think fast. And of course when asked to think fast, I just tell the truth as I know it. Or make shit up. Usually a combination of the two. Here's what came out:
"Well, sweetie, it had something to do with slavery and how some people thought that black people were only good for working and didn't deserve pay or respect. Other people knew that we're all the same under the skin and believed it enough to fight a war over it."
Then I threw in the little chestnut that Scott and I would have been committing a crime by just being married back in those days so he and his brother and sister would have never been born. And you know what he did? He put his hands on both of my cheeks, looked me in the eyes and kissed me. Hm. Bullshitted myself into a sweet little kiss from my son. I wonder if that'd work on Neil Patrick Harris?
kxx
