I came up with a plan the other day to get closer to my estranged wife by spending more time with her. I sat with her on the couch while she watched TV. I think she was watching Desperate Housewives or something that looked like it – all the women were desperate, backstabbing each other, lying to their husbands, and burying bodies in their backyards. One was even involved in a racist hate crime. I'm not sure but it could have also been The View.
I was so bored and antsy, I couldn't sit still. I even started rapping something from ODB. When my wife told me, "RELAX!", I decided to have a glass of wine. It worked. I began to see the show in a different way. I really got into it. I was laughing when my wife was laughing and crying during what I thought were the sad parts. It was an amazing TV watching experience. I found myself actually caring for the characters, saying things like, "I hope Lynnette can stop her killing spree. She's a good mother. She deserves better. Is Whoopie dead? "
I got to really enjoy watching TV with my wife. Every night, I looked forward to viewing our favorite shows, waiting eagerly for the episodes to begin, glass of wine in hand. At first, I'd just need one bottle to savor shows like Bachelor Pad, Kate Plus 8, and Giant Wives and their Little People Husbands. Our nights usually ended with my wife pulling on my arm where I passed out. I'd sometimes wake up the next morning, slumped over the coffee table. One night, while I placed my face just one inch from the television in an effort to appreciate the fine, detailed embroidery on a dress from Say Yes to the Dress, I puked all over the screen, and then lost consciousness, slamming my head against the wet, sloppy image.
My wife finally suggested that on some nights we might want to watch some of my shows (after the police called, demanding she pick me up at the liquor store where I was on the floor, out for the count). I asked if maybe we could start reconnecting in a class on how to make your own wine. We quit the class after I yelled at the teacher regarding having to wait for the wine to ferment. "But Joe Millionaire in on Dancing with the Stars tonight!" I exclaimed. "He's the closest they'll ever get to what they loosely deem a star. I can't watch that crap without not thinking rationally or not being able to see straight!"
So last night, my wife and I decided to try something new. She watches her shows while I sit beside her, typing away at my laptop, Facebooking, Googling, and laughing my head off at all the wonderful things on the Net that last no longer than thirty seconds. I even made a makeshift bathtub in the middle of the living room with a wheelbarrow, enjoying a luxurious bubble bath while eating cupcakes. I think our marriage might be back on track.