My Husband's Secret Addiction

I figured I'd kick off the new blog by sharing with you all a deep, dark family secret. My husband has a secret addiction that just might tear our marriage apart.

Ooh. You're intrigued. I can hear you asking, "What is it? Is it booze? Cigarettes? Pot? It's not meth, is it? Say it's not meth!"

Well, I'll tell you...but first, I'll take a nice jog in a different direction you know, to drive you crazy and build suspense and keep you from noticing my sub-par writing and poorly structured tale. Yeah, I read Twilight, I know how to play that game.

So, the husband and I watch a lot of TV...a lot. Yeah, yeah, I know it'll make us fat and stupid, blah, blah, blah. I weigh the same amount I did in high school and Dylan has almost finished his PhD in Evolutionary Biology, so maybe we can use a little fat and stupid up in here. Anyway, we have a very set schedule. We watch the same programs on the same nights every week. On Fridays and Saturdays, when the television gods expect you to, you know, be out there "having a life", we watch Netflix.

The thing is, when I say "we" have a schedule, what I mean is "I" have a schedule. Dylan is, seemingly, biologically incapable of scheduling. He greatly enjoys certain programs, but would he remember when they're on if it weren't for me? No. He'd just keep on staring into space thinking really hard about the hybridization of flour beetles and then run out to find somebody to explain his NEW BRILLIANT BEETLE IDEA in painstaking (for the record, the listeners are the ones in pain here) detail if I weren't around (heh...if you're reading this, I love you and your big, brilliant brain, baby!).

So, every day I remind him what we're watching on TV that night...every day...that is...except for Monday.

Dun. Dun. DUN. Oh look, this wasn't a jog in a different direction at all, but rather a loop to take you back to the topic of this blog, which is my husband's secret addiction. It also happens to be a television show. See what I did there?

Dylan, who cannot remember when The Office, theoretically his other favorite program, is on even though the time hasn't changed in years, never, EVER forgets what is on PBS from 8-10 p.m. on Monday nights. Those of you who are fellow addicts are nodding your head in excitement. Those of you who are unlucky enough to live with fellow addicts are giving me a knowing sigh right now. For the rest of you, I'll just tell you. Here goes...

My husband is addicted to Antiques Roadshow.

Shocking, right?

Every Monday, for the good of my marriage, I sit through 2 hours of "How much is this old piece of junk worth?" "Oh, a lot?!" or "Oh, nothing...boo..." I never fight him on it, because I would be quite the hypocrite if I couldn't let him have one night of guilty pleasure when I've made him sit through every stupid episode of Revenge. So, that's not what could tear our marriage apart. Here's the problem:

I have the gall to fall asleep during Antiques Roadshow! How dare I?! Every time I do, I get a guilt trip about how he just wanted to watch his show and spend time with me and, besides, HOW could I fall asleep during Antiques Roadshow?!

Gee, I don't know, honey. Let's start with the fact that, as my dad points out to my mom (a fellow AR junkie) every time she watches it, it's hosted by the wrong Mark Wahlberg. It would be infinitely more watchable if the host was Marky Mark in his Calvin Kleins. Then, I guess I don't find the weak puns of the flamboyant furniture twins to be comic relief enough for my taste. I also just don't find the plaid suits of that tall poster dude to be the exciting fashion statements that you clearly find them to be since you shake me awake to say, "Look at his suit! Isn't it cool?"

Mostly, though, it's just dorky. It's a show for dorks. And old people. And especially old dorks. Yes, I am the last person who should be judging folks for being dorky, but I mean, come on. It's Antiques Roadshow!

Dylan and I have argued over the dork factor multiple times, but, in his mind, he won the argument when this came out:

http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid1578001965

(Yeah, sorry that you have to look that one up. I couldn't find it on YouTube. Can you believe that?)

Kevin Bacon likes Antiques Roadshow! KEVIN BACON, Megan!

Yep, because if there's one guy you want in your I'm-not-a-dork corner, it's this guy.

All joking aside, though, I'm married to a good, good man, and if the worst I can say of him is that he gets mad when I fall asleep during Antiques Roadshow, I'd say I'm a pretty lucky lady.

But seriously...Antiques Roadshow...seriously...