We sat outside because it’s summer and we like to eat dinner outside in the summer. Nevermind the racket-making cicadas or the hot breezes that do not refresh. All too soon we ex-Californians will be shut up indoors for a very very long time. So we ate our grilled burgers and bratwursts with cold lemonade and enjoyed the sunshine and shade anyway.
A discussion of favorite movies erupted as they often do in this family. “Nacho Libre” took center stage. (Yes, we fans of “School of Rock” couldn’t resist watching Jack Black in stretchy pants.) Like a brush fire, a good-natured argument developed over whether or not Sister Encarnacion actually falls for “Nacho” (the monastery cook turned incognito wrestler) by the end of the movie. Jon pointed out that the movie finishes with the good sister donning her habit, per her habit; ergo, she remains a nun and not available for dating.
Caitrin, however, cited the fact that Nacho and Encarnacion are holding hands in the final scene, clearly an oft-utilized symbol of romantic inclinations in most comedies where love’s labors succeed. Jon rejoined that a nun does not make such attachments; Caitrin countered that while unexpected, a nun falling in love with a monastery-cook-turned-wrestler makes perfect sense in a romantic comedy. What more evidence did one need than the fact that Encarnacion (a nun, a religious) entered the arena of one of Nacho’s most unholy fights with all the children in their care eschewing convention because she had “feelings” for him?
Then, to drive home the emphatic final point, both Liam and Caitrin took turns reading the back of the DVD box aloud where the plot summary indicated that Nacho’s primary intention was to win the affections of Sister Encarnacion. A comedy always resolves the central aim and conflict of the protagonist. Jon had little left to say.
Already the younger two cite texts to support their arguments with their Dad.
