So, despite the fact that Mr. Ouiser and I watch almost precisely zero current television, I decided that Dara could not be wrong...that Mad Men must be worth watching. And since the first four seasons are streaming on Netflix, I decided to give it a whirl, so I sat down during T's nap and watched the first episode. And then I almost died of happiness. And then I immediately texted M and told him that I have our new show to watch. And it's all over but the shoutin'. I'm hooked. I'm loving some Jon Hamm, and I am really loving some Christina Hendricks. I had loved the visual aspect of the show since its inception. The fashion particularly.
Anyway, when we went out Saturday night to see Mary Poppins, we decided to go British in honor of the practically perfect heroine and went to Fleet Street Pub for English beers and pub food. I had the beef and Yorkshire pudding with rosemary gravy. And a couple of London Porters. M had a cocktail. And as I sat there next to my handsome, tall husband in his sport coat having a cocktail I thought, "Yes." It was a modern interpretation of the Mad Men vibe. I don't believe I would've traded Mr. Ouiser at that moment for anyone. Not Jon Hamm. Not even George Clooney. And then, as he regularly helped the girl sitting next to us during the show, the girl who had recently undergone ankle surgery and couldn't walk, I knew that cocktail or no, I'd never trade Mr. Ouiser anyway. He is my lobster.