Or does your one do this as well?
He's sitting in the front room, about fifteen feet away from me, watching the A Team. I can't see the TV from here but I really don't need to. I can hear BA complaining about flying and calling Murdoch a mad fool. I hear Murdoch flying a makeshift plane and doing a vague impression on an opera singer. God, he's mad isn't he?
The all action violin and horn based music is matching the tension and excitement on a heartbeat by heartbeat basis and there's the occasional sound of gunfire. It doesn't take a man of superior brainpower to work out that it's all kicking off in A Team land, the big fight scene is about to happen and all will end with Hannibal saying that thing about a plan coming together.
My Dad, being the all action Sri Lankan Dad that he is, or maybe just because he's strange rather than Sri Lankan, or perhaps both, has a habit, not like a nun's habit either.
He sits there quite happily, on his settee, and kind of twitches as the fight scenes unfold. As if he's dodging the bullets or trying to evade a fist flying in his direction. I hear a gunshot and watch him body swerve and twist his head to avoid the bullet. I hear a fist and see him breathe in sharply and flex his torso so the punch doesn't injure him. St Vitus would have nothing on him.
Dads. They're a bit mental aren't they?