Potty Mouth...

We are eating dinner and the Boy is discussing the film Taken and saying it has had awful reviews so I try to defend its lead actor.
'That's a shame as I quite like Liam Neeson. He was great in The Big Man and Schindler's List'
'I've never seen The Big Man but I'm probably going to watch Schindler's List tonight...' says the Boy.
'Have you never seen it?'
'No.'
'I thought you'd have seen it...'
'Why?'
'Well it's quite an important movie. Spielberg gets serious sort of thing...'
'Well I'm watching it tonight.'

I smirk and remember a gag.
'A friend of mine told me to watch Schindler's List many years ago but he warned me that I'd need a box of tissues. So I bought some tissues but there was nothing to have a...'

The Missus intervenes.
'For God's sake! Do not crack jokes about wanking to Schinder's List at the dinner table.'

I get the sort of look she reserves for spare room offences. So I hold my tongue and comfort myself with the thought that in an alternative reality my wife is Jane Austen and I have gained immortality as one of her books ends with the line...

'Because, dear reader, I married the cloth-headed, potty-mouthed fucking idiot...'