These days, I am watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier with my middle kid.

She’d been a bit of a Marvelhead before 2020 happened, but her obsession with whole universe really blossomed during sequester.

She is the kind of kid who gets so excited about something, she has to sit you down and tell you point by point, the entire meandering plot, with sidebars on the meaning of those plot points, cross-referenced with plot points from other movies set in the same universe, thereby creating Easter eggs of enjoyment. She will pause only to stare you down with wide-ass excitable eyes, nodding encouragingly, until you verbalize the connection she’s trying to get you to make.

Then she will decide a detailed retelling is not enough. You will need to watch the show she just spent 35 minutes explaining in great detail. When you agree, she will sit next to you on the couch, not watching the show she’s already watched, but watching you, to see if you get it on the level she gets it. If you don’t, she may pause to explain.

I go through this with her because I’m quite aware my kid inherited this behavior from me. I, too, and have felt the thrill of reliving The Best Story Ever Told by telling it to some hapless passerby.

I guess this is the Song of Parenthood, where you encourage the behavior you are suddenly fully realizing Younger You drove people out of their frigging minds with.

As the adult, I do things to torment her throughout this process. Things I remember my dad doing to torment me, like pointing out moments when the romance is tacked on like some booby prize for saving the world, or giving a mini lecture on the Bechdel test.

Also, for my own amusement, deliberately misname everybody (how could you not? Bucky is a stupid ass name). These days, I amuse myself by calling the show Falcon & The Snowman, even though she twice earnestly corrected me before resorting to mere groans of annoyance.

All this is really backstory getting to the point. Which we’ve come to now, huzzah! Me and the two older kids were on the couch, watching the latest episode, and they were talking about Bucky’s sexuality, and I said, “He’s cute.”

My kid, in horror, gave me a harsh, “Mom!” reprimand. Like HOW DARE. Then she threw eyes to the other room, where my husband sat at the computer.

I’ve been laughing about it all day.

What did she think was going to happen? That somehow, if I didn’t reign it in, a torrid affair might start via the link of streaming service? And if that scenario were possible, the actor playing Bucky would be like, Mrs. Nahm, you 46 year old mother of three, I must have you! That my jealous husband would have to duke it out with the winter soldier for my affections?! That my kid would become a Marvel orphan because let’s face it, Bucky doesn’t play?

Honestly, It’s been the best compliment I’ve received since quarantine.