YOUR DINNER IS IN THE DOG.

"It’s a scene that is in all the books: the heroine is having a nice breakfast/lunch/dinner, when the phone rings. It’s bad news. And PRESTO—her appetite disappears. A variation is the family dinner, when an argument erupts, and no one eats anything. This is patently ridiculous. It never happens. Our family can yell and eat simultaneously with no problem." writes Molly in her post CLOSE THE DOOR.

A real fun post, it certainly got me thinking about all those funny quirks in film and on tv that left me wondering if anyone actually lived like this.

Things like .........

Yeah, food. As good a place to start as any for as Molly rightly points out why do people in movies find it next to impossible to argue and eat at the same time? AND why do so many men (it's never a woman is it?) find their dinner has ended up in the dog bin after they once again return home late from work? AND why is it that we Brits are seen to head down to the local pub (which incidentally is always at the end of the street) at the first sign of woe whilst Americans head for the freezer and a huge, and I mean huge, tub of ice-cream?

With regard to thrillers/horror films -  Why do people want to live in a house/place knowing full well that the funeral directors do a roaring trade? I mean would you really ever consider getting back in the waters of Amity Island after several people had already been devoured by Jaws. AND in just the same way why would any one want to be in the same room, let alone befriend,  people like Hercule Poirot or Miss Maple when chances are they'll come to. err, shall we say a sticky ending? AND why does the baddie never stay dead? Even when they have been hit over the head with that frying pan, stabbed with that fountain pen and reversed over by that car they still won't lie down and die.

And what about houses that on the outside appear like an average Victorian terrace and yet on the inside resemble Dr Who's tardis. Something peculiar (I think) to British soap operas is the house that no matter how small always seems to expand, making room for the relative that no one had ever heard of  up until the point they show up on the doorstep and, needless to say, are welcomed with open arms despite the family not knowing if they are a mass murderer or not. Not a problem with the Americans of the movies as they all live in huge mansions anyway - that is unless they reside in a trailer park which, it goes without saying, means they will have a least one dubious relative.

And finally, children. Once again I'm pretty sure this only happens in British soap operas when children are often not only not heard but not seen either. I'm thinking of Coronation Street's infamous Tracy Barlow who was often upstairs or at school and in one infamous episode went to the toilet not to be seen for two years when she reappeared a completely different child (as if we wouldn't notice it was a different actress).

But not forgetting the Australians of soap opera land who, like us Brits, know literally everybody in the locality and, as an example of their devotion, at the drop of a hat rush off to the hospital to see the latest casualty who, despite having had both legs and one arm amputated (oh, and been in a coma) after yet another murderer has struck will be back home, as good as new, and in the diner/coffee shop (the equivalent of us Brits heading to the pub) in a day or two. Not that that matters as there's still time for each and every neighbour to take that traditional get well gift (grapes/flowers?) a casserole which no one will eat as an argument is sure to erupt and no one eats anything.

So come on, do tell what film/tv occurrences have you wondering if anyone actually lives like this.