I walk in the door and he's grinning in front of The Incredibles. Turns out that through hard work, coupon acquisition, internet research, and good luck we have TV again. Hi-def even. We have 12 channels or something. He was doing channel inventory, not watching.
I tried to be supportive and enthusiastic. We were just hours away from Father's Day, after all. But since we de-cabled, I've moved beyond TV. I've developed other interests. I have become immune to the lure of the idiot box.
Wait. Wait! Go back. Was that EastEnders? SWEET! No. Don't turn it off. Let me just see a second... minute... episode or two.
For those of you who are not British or have cable: EastEnders is a long running Brit soap opera about a working class neighborhood. It shows up on PBS late night. I love it. I watched a bunch when I was pregnant.
I don't know who anyone is. I can't understand half the accents. The episodes run in willy nilly order so I can't keep up with it. The clothes and hair are anti-glam and garish. And the credit music is ridiculous.
Quote of the night, "Why down't you goin geyt yo glad rags on, shweetie. Show day boys whot's whot."
Oddly, the spouse was not as enchanted. He did however approve when the glad rags outfit entered the scene.