Blanket, TV and One Very Serious Viewer
Big news in my living room: he likes being tucked in a blanket to watch TV. Not sleeping, watching. Ears up through the whole episode. This post is his viewing diary: the setup, the episode log, his opinions (expressed via thump), and the theme-song affair. Personal fun log, not advice; volume stays low and scary scenes get skipped in my house. Precious does not begin to cover it, and I agree completely. He now has opinions about theme songs too. Blanket tucked, hay close, volume low: our perfect evening formula.
Our evening setup: the screening room
His blanket on the couch corner, same spot nightly, the same throw from my couch-time rules, deployed for viewing duty. He gets tucked (blanket folded over the back, sides loose, escape always open), hay bowl within nose reach, obviously. Volume low, no sudden action scenes, learned after a doorbell sound effect in episode one caused a full alert-freeze and a 10-minute intermission. Pre-show routine: flop first (see the flop diary for tile-vs-rug politics), then carry-over to the couch only if he hops to the ramp himself. Voluntary attendance only, the screening room has no compulsory seating.
Episode log: four nights
Episode one (nature documentary): ears up throughout, nose twitching at bird calls, thumped once at a hawk shadow, review: engaged, excellent taste. Episode two: dozed through the middle, woke for the theme song, ears shot up at the opening bars, the beginning of the theme-song affair. Episode three: watched a full hour, flopped at the credits, stayed for the post-credit scene (so did I, solidarity). Episode four: remote guard duty, sat beside the remote the entire runtime like a tiny usher, glaring at my hand whenever it drifted near. He has opinions about the ending. I could tell by the thump, the finale’s twist earned one decisive thump and a turned back. Critics agree (me): best reviewer in the house.
The theme-song affair and house rules
Three evenings running now: theme song plays, ears rise, full attention for 60 seconds, then verdict (stay or flop). One theme earned a binky mid-credits, the highest honor this critic bestows. House rules of the screening room, posted mentally: blanket tucked nightly, hay always within reach, volume capped, scary scenes skipped by fast-forward (his freeze taught us), remote guarded by him (my access negotiated). Remote guard on duty most nights now, the usher era. Evening formula complete: blanket, hay, low volume, shared couch, occasional thump review. Serious viewer, front row, every night. The show is secondary; the company is the point.
Critic’s season review and programming notes
Season totals: 24 episodes watched together, 6 thump reviews (4 positive-ish, 2 twists protested), 3 theme-song binkies, 1 doorbell-freeze intermission. Programming that works: nature documentaries (bird calls get nose-twitches), slow dramas (he naps through subplots, wakes for confrontations, same as me), anything with a strong theme song (the affair continues). Programming banned: action films (doorbell incident), horror (no), anything with sudden barking (the freeze lasted 10 minutes and cost two treats in reassurance). Scheduling: 20:00 sharp after the flop diary’s tile hour, the evening flows flop-to-couch like a well-run theater district. The critic’s star rating system: ears up (watching), half-mast (background), flop (audio only), gone (napping, show paused out of respect). Most common rating: flop with occasional ear swivels, the reviewer’s equivalent of four stars. Renewed for next season, obviously.
Late-night arthouse slot, added this month: slow films for slow evenings, both of us half-flopped by the second act. The critic’s standards hold even drowsy, one ear always tracks the dialogue. Cancellation policy: my yawns end screenings early (his flop continues regardless, venue shared). All-time rankings posted inside the notebook: theme-song binky night first, hawk-shadow thump second, remote-guard debut third. The screening room runs nightly to full houses of two. Credits roll, blanket stays, critic naps. See you at eight.
Viewer mail and the critic’s code
Friends ask for the critic’s watchlist: nature first, slow drama second, musicals for the themes (binky earned once per musical, data across four). The critic’s code, observed not taught: never watch alone if company naps nearby (he relocates to wherever I settle, the review follows the human), pause for hay breaks (intermissions are sacred, runtime extends accordingly), no spoilers (endings get thumps regardless of quality, the thump means surprise, not judgment, established after three twist-endings). Guest screenings: two held, both successful, visitors briefed on volume and blanket protocol, critic performed ear-up throughout, reviews favorable. Merchandising: none, though the blanket corner, his reserved seat, now has a stitched initial (mine, marking my smaller share). Ratings board updated weekly in pencil. The screening room’s motto, never spoken: the show is secondary; the company is the point. Renewed indefinitely.
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