I sat in my house and I watched Zombie Beavers, one of those ridiculous shows my grandson is famous for finding. I’m not certain how it happened; first he came out and asked if I wanted to watch Sharknado 3 and I replied I would rather be hit over the head repeatedly with a chunk of firewood. So he sighed and said it would be Zombie Beavers.

I didn’t really catch what he said and when a few minutes later I wandered through to get something, I was struck by the scenery. I asked what he was watching and he told me and I was incredulous; it seemed impossible anyone would make such a movie, let alone watch it . . . and so I sat down.

Well, I’ll be darned if someone didn’t spend a bit of money on decent sets, sort of decent, and then have beavers and people turn into zombie beavers. It was as if shock held me in my seat. I even ate popcorn.

As the credits rolled, they showed outtakes and one was of the little dog swimming with the fake beavers and the director yelling, “THE DOG IS SUPPOSED TO BE AFRAID OF THEM.”

I hope I do not dream tonight and eat my way through a door or coffee table or the teak elephant my husband brought back from Thailand that can serve as a seat or an end table. (There is a story about him and his crew wrangling said elephant into the bag of a Thai cab, but I’ll leave that for him to tell. It ain’t light-weight. He also has stories about mongoose and cobra fights – they take the teeth out of the mongoose to make it more fair. I’d probably faint headfirst into the combat pit. Now there’s a nightmare for you.)