Monday, April 3, 2017

You Have Only Yourself To Blame

So. Did you watch "Big Little Lies" on HBO? If not, what's wrong with you? Not that I judge, but seriously, get your keppy out of your tuchas and watch it already. Except it's over. You have only yourself to blame. I'm sure they'll repeat the entire miniseries again at some point. Or it will show up on WhoJew or JustGo or maybe if I pay a lot of money for it, SJG-TV. What I'm saying is find a way to see it and you won't be sorry. If you're sorry, don't blame me. I can't be right about everything. Still, without spoiling the fun or giving much away, "Big Little Lies" is full of pretty rich people who live in glass houses and throw stones at each other and you know what that leads to: shattered hearts and reputations and big little lies, so big, you shouldn't know from such lies. Ever.
Of course, being the literary SJG, I've already read Lianne Moriarty's book, so supposedly, I knew everything that was supposed to happen in the HBO version. Only the memory isn't what it used to be. Some plot points got a little fuzzy. When the eldest asked me for spoilers, I misled him, unintentionally, which created embarrassment for him during deep beer-drenched discussions with his friends. Thanks to me, he insisted, "No, he's NOT the father." "How do you know?" "Because my mother told me and she read the book and she's never steered me wrong." But I did steer him wrong, accidentally, and made him feel, how did he put it? "Like an idiot." "Don't blame Mom for that," his brother said. Nice boy, the youngest. Before we settled in for the finale, the eldest insisted I defend myself on the fatherhood issue. "Your father is sitting right there on the La-Z-Boy."
One final suggestion: When you watch "Big Little Lies," watch it without your children. At this point, how much more do you need to get blamed for?

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