There are shows that I like to watch with Mark.
The first and foremost being The Walking Dead. That’s our start watching half an hour after it starts so we can fast-forward thru all of the commercials, sit in the dark, be grossed out and guess who’s gonna die next show to watch together. Awesome by all accounts. Is there really any better Rick than a ticked off, had enough, someone’s gonna get it now Rick? And shut-up, Carl. “Whaaaaa…I don’t have any friends” “Whaaaa…I don’t have an Xbox”…”Whaaaa…I had to shoot my mother in the head”. Whiner.
We love to watch 21 Kids and Counting together. Really. We’ve never seen folks quite like the Duggars and are equal parts fascinated and somewhat frightened by their every day existence. Yes, Girlfriend has a clown car for a uterus and hair that makes me want to chase her with a straight iron, but by Christ those kids love each other like crazy and are such good, giving people…they’re sure doing something right there. So we watch and learn. “Side hug!” Seriously, these people choose to not even kiss their future spouse until their wedding day, no front hugs, no hand holding until you’re engaged and you’d best believe that your dates with your fiance, every single one of them, are chaperoned until you are married. Just like I always did. Hahahahaha…you know that’s a lie.
Now here’s where things get tricky. There are lots of other shows. Lots that he likes to watch. And maybe, just possibly..I do not feel the same about these shows as he does. Like, oh, I don’t know… Star Trek. Or any spin-off of Star Trek. Or anything else on the any channel that features Star Trek. But he loves them, so I am willing to sit with him and let him watch. For the most part I’m on my laptop or my phone, but by God I’m here. Loyal, that’s me.
Then we get into the Netflix thing. Oh, gah with the Netflix already. Now my Sweetheart doesn’t just watch one or two episodes of a show he discovers..he binge watches. This means that we watched nothing but HBO’s failed Carnival for 3 days straight week before last. 6am? Carnival. 11pm? Carnival. Now, I love this man and we get limited time together, so for the most part I keep my snark to myself, but oh my GOD, it was awful. It got dropped for a reason, people. Dare I mention Orange Is The New Black? He’s right into that one. That was this weekend’s “oh my word is this STILL ON?” show. I don’t get it. Messed up women in prison. Fights, drugs, girl sex…oh. Nevermind.
Then there’s his love of all things “true story”. If it was based on a true story, he loves it. It can be the most God-awful, dry documentary or it can be a cheesy military b-movie..but if was even loosely based on real events..it’s a keeper. One night this week it was a documentary on Pope Joan. I think my eyeballs rolled so far back into my head on that one that I saw my tonsils.
So do I snatch the remote out of his hand and yell, “NO MORE!”? Do I fall to the floor in a pretend enui-induced faint? (He ignores these) No. I sit and do my nails..play on Facebook, text my sister. Because when it comes down to it there are bigger things to worry about besides my losing the will to live if I have to watch another docu-drama on what was hidden in Hitler’s secret bunker.
We’re together, under the same roof with the girls. I can look at him and get a wink and a smile. And because I know if I asked he’d be more than happy to let me watch House Hunters, or Anthony Bourdaine or any other damned thing all night if I wanted to. And because he wouldn’t think twice about letting me do what makes me happy, I will let him do what makes him happy. Which is watch spectacularly crappy TV.