By Jon Show – Watching a movie or a television show with the Mother of Dragons is an experience.

A bad one? Definitely not. A perfect one? It’s not my place to say. Could it use a suggestion box? It wouldn’t hurt.

(warning, this is littered with spoilers)

Recently we were watching an episode of “Paradise,” a post-apocalyptic show on Hulu. There is a nuclear fallout and people move to a massive cave city in Colorado.

The main character later escapes the cave to search for his wife, but crashes a plane during his escape and finds himself in a forest, where he pops his dislocated kneecap back into position.

At which point my wife yelled, “OW,” and then shared this fact.

“You know I’ve had to do that before, right? I’ve dislocated my kneecap before.”

I did not respond because it was, I’m guessing, the one millionth time she has shared it with me.

Later, the man was rescued by a group of orphans who survived the fallout and were living alone in the forest, at which point I was presented with a number of insights.

“Where are they getting water?”

“They must be so hungry.”

“It’s so sad they’re all by themselves.”

“I feel terrible that little girl can’t talk.”

Per usual I said nothing, and then five minutes later the girl who couldn’t talk spoke aloud.

“Ohmygosh she CAN talk!”

At which point I responded as I often eventually do: “You’re aware this is a television show and not a documentary, right?”

Feelings hurt

It’s hard to explain the level of my wife’s sympathy and empathy for television characters.

Dislocated kneecap: empathy. Her level of empathy is quite simply boundless. I believe she may actually feel phantom pain for television characters.

Children without clean water: sympathy. I believe if she could drive to a TV set somewhere in America and provide water to these fake orphaned children, she would do it.

Just in day- to-day life I would put her sympathy and empathy levels above the average person. We all feel bad when bad things happen to people but she’s on another level.

I’ll admit it’s an admirable trait. But why she feels either emotion while watching television is uncertain to me. It’s TV. Fake. Nothing is even close to reality.

But this is my reality.

Suburban plight

More recently we began watching a new show on Apple TV, in which the guy from Dirty Jobs plays a rich dude who lives in Connecticut and breaks into his friends’ houses.

He might just look like the Dirty Jobs guy. I don’t pay a lot of attention while I’m watching shows.

At the end of season one, one of the main characters died in dubious fashion but not murder, surrounded by his friends, and the questions began.

“They have to call the police, right? I mean, why wouldn’t you call the police? They didn’t do anything!”

They did not take her advice, and later in the show they decided to dispose of the body. It did not go as planned, as the dead guy came back to life in the back of an SUV. The driver continued to drive as the undead guy wailed and fought with the others in the back of the vehicle.

“Why isn’t he stopping the car? Just stop the car!”

The fight continued, almost as if they couldn’t hear her pleas.

“Why isn’t he stopping the car?”

The car crashed into a lake with all passengers inside.

“That wouldn’t have happened if he stopped the car.”

Is she correct? Yes. He should have stopped the car, but per usual, her questions were met with my silence.

Size matters

My wife comes from a large family. Eight brothers and sisters in total. It’s so large that I can’t tell you how many nieces and nephews I have. I don’t even really have a ballpark number — maybe 22?

I attribute her television watching habits to being the product of such a large clan. I’ve watched movies with all of them before and it’s like going to an interactive screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

There are people wrestling in the living room. One person is telling a story that no one is listening to. Someone is on the phone. Someone else is reading recent news headlines aloud.

A door slams in the distance but no one seems to be unaccounted for.

I, on the other hand, come from a family of four. And if so much as a peep came out of the nearby kitchen, or someone asked a question while my dad was watching television, we were given a glance that led to immediate silence.

That may be why I have no recorded memory of my mom ever watching television when I was a child.

Noise cancellation

I’ve tolerated noise from our children for years, only recently requesting their silence because it’s been almost 18 years of interrupted TV time. I’m 50. I’ve driven kids to countless places, prepared who knows how many meals. I want to watch TV without background noise.

I have not attempted to silence the Mother of Dragons. We’ve been married for 21 years. She talks while watching TV and can’t cook. I am, I’ve been told, a lot to deal with. It is what it is.

I’ve asked her multiple times why she considers watching television and movies to be an interactive experience, but I’ve never been provided a satisfactory answer. Her retort is usually along the lines of, “Why do you care?”

In response to her comment I’ve stated too many times to count, “Because it’s a TV show. It’s not real.”

And we silently agree to disagree.

If you’re aware of any television shows with plot lines that can’t be questioned, or actors that always make the correct decision, please let me know. We just finished Friends and Neighbors and we’re on the hunt for a new show.

Or maybe we’ll rewatch Game of Thrones, the show that provided her namesake for this column.

I don’t know how anyone could question the choices of a woman who raises dragons.

---

Jon Show lives in Robbins Park with his wife, who he calls “The Mother of Dragons.” Their 17-year-old son is “Future Man” and their 14-year-old daughter is “The Blonde Bomber.” Their dog is actually named Lightning.