Claritin, Bear Grylls Reruns, & the Big TV

It's seven-forty-five AM on a Saturday.  So why am I up, you ask?

Because with the husband still blissfully asleep, it's the only time he's home that I know I'll have the remote control.  ALL.  TO.  MY.  SELF.  On the big TV, no less. 

The only problem is, the only things on at 7:45 AM on Saturday are informercials and reruns of Boy Meets World.

Now I am probably better off in this category than most wives due to the fact that I love watching sports almost as much as Dave does.  Otherwise there'd be no chance for me to ever view the big TV.  I would be relegated to the bedroom faster than an overactive puppy when company comes over. 

I'm pretty sure my love of sports is the only reason Dave married me.  It certainly wasn't for my cooking skills.  So you'd think he would be satisfied with that while we're watching a game together, and leave the remote alone for three hours, right?

Wrong.  Apparently, in addition to pollen, my husband is also allergic to commercials.  And Claritin has no effect on this. 

Anyone who watches baseball regularly knows that commercial breaks last all of about thirty seconds.  But in those thirty seconds between the top and bottom of the first inning of last night's Yankee game, he managed to find three other programs to keep tabs on: Man vs. Wild, WWE wrestling, and the world poker tournament on ESPN.

I wouldn't mind as much if he flipped back and forth for a few seconds.  But here's the problem: Dave will flip to another program, get engrossed in that, and totally forget to go back to what we were originally watching.  And then when a commercial comes on in the new program, he has to flip to find something else. 

Take last night, for example.  During a Yankee commercial break, he snapped on Man vs. Wild.  Bear Grylls had found himself in the arctic terrains of Iceland, or something, and was demonstrating how to build a raft using leaves, twigs, urine, and a haughty Australian accent.  Within ten seconds I was bored and wondering what CC Sabathia, someone who's actually on our continent and way more relevant to our lives, was doing.  "C'mon," I whined (usually my choice of ammo).  "Change it back to the game!"

"Wait two minutes," Dave said.  "I just want to see if he makes it off the island."

Yes, the suspense about whether Bear would survive was killing me too.  Especially considering the fact that this was a rerun produced in 2008, and Bear has had three subsequent seasons of miraculously making it off the island, or out of the desert, or down from the tree (without any help from his trusty camera crew, of course). 

"Yes, because you might need these tips one day," I said.  "The only island you ever visit is Staten Island." 

Eventually the game was switched back on, but it was only temporary.  I was also lucky enough to see snippets of the world poker tournament, a match in Vegas where some rich guys you never heard of put up ten grand to try to win a pot of three million (more programming that's not at all irrelevant to our lives).
I did put my foot down about the wrestling, though.  I can't tolerate that for even a few seconds. 

I guess, when I think about it, men have their escape-reality shows just like women do.  I watch plenty of shows that have nothing to do with my life: Dr. Phil, Millionaire Matchmaker, Sex and the City. The difference is, I do it on my own time.  I would never subject my spouse to the garbage I watch on TV.

Okay, I'm lying a little.  I did put on Millionaire Matchmaker the other day while he was in the room.  And you know what?  I think he actually liked it.

 Now he'll probably kill me for blowing up his spot about it.  Good thing he rarely reads my blog.

Perhaps one day men and women will come together in peace and learn to love each other's TV shows.  I think if anyone can do it, it's Dave and I. 

In the meantime, I'll leave you with a little advice.  You know those T-shirts, mugs, and other assorted memorbilia you can buy as gifts that have folksy sayings on them like "King of the Remote"?  Well, don't buy them for your husband. They will only encourage him. 

I'm going to petition laboratories to start working on commercial-allergy medication.  Feel free to join me.