The Day the Angel Showed Up
When my children were young, I did not watch much television. So, I missed a good ten years’ worth of Stuff.
This is my excuse for being utterly unaware of Supernatural until the end of season 10.
Even then, I was only marginally aware of it. My older daughter took it up because her friends watched it. She watched it on her computer, until she decided I would like it. We often chose shows to watch together, and we tended to choose shows that fit into our extremely busy lives—Firefly, Freaks & Geeks—so I was, in theory, open to new shows.
“Mom,” she said, “you should watch this show with me.”
“How many seasons?” I asked.
“Season 9 is finished, season 10 will be on Netflix in September, season 11 starts this fall!” she said.
Ten seasons of catch-up stretched before me like an impossible task. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I don’t think I have the energy to start on a series that is already up to season 10 before I’ve even heard of it.”
Our house had a great room—living room, dining room and kitchen in one large room with 10-foot ceilings. I had an office, she had her bedroom, but when I was in the kitchen, the living room TV was unavoidable. She would wait until I got involved in something in the kitchen, and then come in and turn on an episode she thought I would like.
I was enjoying the show, but I wasn't really committed to it.
Then, she happened to put on a season 4 episode.
I was just walking through the room.
“Who is that guy?” I asked.
I waited for the dark-haired, trench-coated, grim-faced character with the gravelly voice to reappear onscreen. “That guy.”
“Oh, that’s Castiel,” she said. “He’s an angel.”
“Uhmmmm…” she understood that she’d finally found a hook that would draw me in to a shared activity. “Starting in Season 4, yeah.”
I sat down next to her on the couch. “Okay,” I said. “I will watch it with you.”
She gave me a tolerant look. “Okay. But I want to talk about the show with my friends, so we have to start with season 9.”
“Is Castiel in season 9?”
The teenager eyeroll was audible. “Yes.”
I quickly decided she and I were the mother/daughter incarnation of Sam and Dean. We’d already had this exact conversation:
Me/Sam: How can you eat this stuff? Do you even read these labels? Look at all these chemicals!
Her/Dean: All I see is "pie." The rest is just "blah blah blah."
Suddenly we had a whole new vocabulary for who we were: The thoughtful label reader. The incautious lover of pie. The devoted family. The inseparable monster-hunting team.
My girl was so Dean that she dressed as Dean for Halloween one year.
I also drew some parallels to my other fandoms:
Me: Whenever other hunters show up on Supernatural, they're like the redshirts on Star Trek. They're gonna die.
She: Everybody in the show is a redshirt. They all end up dead.
Me: Not Castiel. Castiel's not gonna die.
She: I wouldn't be so sure. They're all at risk. He's already died a couple of times, he just came back.
Me: No. God's not gonna let Cas die, because he is So. Very. Pretty.
She (groaning): Mom. Really?
Eventually, I had to go back and catch up the earlier seasons. Which proved a lovely opportunity to embarrass my teenage daughter:
Me: So, you haven't seen that episode?
She: No, there were some in Season 4 I skipped because I was trying to get caught up.
Me: I thought that was in Season 5.
She: No, I'm pretty sure it would have been season 4.
Me: Didn't Dean get dragged off to Hell at the end of season 4?
She: No, that was season 3. Season 4 is when Castiel shows up.
Me: THAT'S right! Season four is when Cas shows up, so then the other episode I was thinking of must have been in Season 5.
She: Wait. Mom. You can't date your Supernatural episodes based on Castiel. Most fans date them by how long Sam's hair was, or how happy Dean was, or something like that.
Me: But... Castiel is the PRETTIEST one! So I NOTICED when he showed up!
She: Mom. You're so embarrassing.
Turns out angels don’t just show up in trenchcoats and lightning. Sometimes they show up right in your kitchen, when your kid invites you to sit down.
