Cassie Sheridan |
Haaave you met Ted? Nine years ago a story began, a simple story involving two very bored looking kids and Ted Mosby. Architect. On Monday, what may have been the most long-winded tale of two people meeting comes to a close and it had better be funny.
The final episode of “How I Met Your Mother” will inevitably be sad. Last week’s episode made me nearly sob and I can only surmise that Monday there will not be a dry eye in the 9.2 million (on average) couches of people that tune in every week. There will be a boom in tissue sales akin to the royal wedding. Monday is the end of an era.
It is the end of the 21st century run of “Friends.” It is the end of legend-wait-for-it-dary catchphrases, ridiculous hijinks and Barney Stinson. There is no more time to love Lily and Marshall, then hate them, then love them, then hate them. We will all have to finally choose a side. No more beers in Maclarens, no more searching for the perfect New York pizza, no more wondering how the hell they afforded that beautiful apartment and no more playbook additions.
It is the end of Ted trying to teach us all cheesy lessons, the only valuable one being that nothing good happens after 2 in the morning (besides of course, that paper we put off writing for 3 weeks) when really the only person we wanted to take horribly misguided advice from was Barney.
We have met the mother that we have been waiting nine years for, and if the promos/internet rumblings/conspiracy theories are even slightly correct, something horribly sad is going to happen in the finale. My favorite conspiracy theory thus far is that the story is actually just going to end with the kids being adopted and Ted just wanting to brag about his fun/pathetic life. Unfortunately, it will probably be far sappier than that ending with, as many people think, a dead/dying mother.
Yet, all I want is to laugh as I say goodbye to these ridiculous characters. Like Robin, I really don’t like feelings and would prefer to say cheers and be just fine. I don’t want to feel as the other How I met your Mother fans tweeting dark things like “How I met your mother is ending and so am I.” I plan to be finer than that. I assume everyone plans to be finer than that.
Instead, I am going to suit up, find a yellow umbrella, hug my real friends a little tighter and watch the last episode while eating a sandwich. It was a fantastic nine years of wondering when the hell you would actually meet the mother. Now we have, and it is time to let it go. Then, when the mourning period is over, binge watch all nine seasons during Dead Week.
