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Wednesday, July 20, 2005

My Dying Wish...

I’m watching this show on TV right now. OK, it’s Desperate Housewives, I’ll just admit it here and now. It’s that part where the hunk of burning love Mike Delfino mentions to Teri Hatcher (whatever her screen name is...Susan?) that his wife’s dying wish was for him to take care of Bongo her dog, an Alsatian.

That’s a tall order, taking care of a dog as somebody’s dying wish.

(Let’s just talk about dying wishes on the make believe TV shows, here, OK?)

But thankfully, for Mike Delfino, it could be a lot worse.

Like, imagine she said this:

  • “Don’t ever forget me, darling. Promise me you’ll never marry again, or even lay eyes on another woman, or I’ll haunt you until you join me in hell…”

  • “Promise me you take good care of Bongo the dog, walk him twice a day, bathe him three time a week (but not on Sundays, he hates that) and feed him only Alpo.”

  • “Keep my side of the bed empty, Mike. I’ll come visit you every night.”

  • “Make me a promise. Never open that jewelry box in the living room, no matter what happens…”

  • “My dying wish… Mike… never forget these numbers… seven, three, eight, five…”

  • “Never forget. Viva Tottenham Hotspurs 4 Life.”

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