Best. Wife. Ever.

So I saw one of the sneak preview screenings of Serenity last night. And I saw it entirely through the good graces and benevolence of the woman known to readers of this blog as She Who Must Be Obeyed. You see, we were unable to get tickets online, so I had the brilliant, or possibly deeply, deeply geekish, idea of standing outside the theatre before the screening with a sign advertising our need for tickets. She Who Must Be Obeyed thought it was worth a try, and last night around an hour and a half before the screening we set out for the theatre, and I stood there with a sign and She Who Must Be Obeyed stood there with the guy with the sign.

About three minutes after we got there a guy in a Firefly T-shirt said he had one extra ticket. And while I was inclined to pass, since there were two of us, She Who Must Be Obeyed insisted that we buy it from him: one was better than none, and worst-case I could go see the movie and she could come pick me up when it was done. My arm thus twisted, we bought the ticket. And we continued to stand in front of the theatre with our sign altered to read that we now needed one, not two, tickets.

A second ticket never materialized, so She Who Must Be Obeyed sent me into the theatre to see the movie. This despite the fact that it was she who, way back in 1998 or so, introduced me to Joss Whedon's world of characters who get under your skin and stay there. So today I am compelled, as an insufficient gesture of thanks, to tell the Internets that She Who Must Be Obeyed is the Best Wife Ever, and that last night's display of generosity far, far above and beyond the call of matrimony is merely my latest reminder of why She Who Must Be Obeyed is also the Best Wife Ever.