My sister Caren and I were in hysterics last night lamenting the fact that still–STILL–after twenty years of marriage for her and seventeen years of marriage for me, our men have still not figured out the relatively simple task of hitting the MUTE button during commercials. Really, guys, is it that hard? You’ve got your thumb POISED over it already, right? I mean, what good is the poising if you’re just going to, you know, poise? Push the damn button already!
Now I don’t know about your house, but in our house, my guy likes to watch his programs LOUD. This could have to do with the fact that he’s trying to hear over the chatter of our little four-year-old who’s usually spewing his stream of consciousness at a mile a minute…either that or fighting with his older sister. So I GET it. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m usually reading or on the computer anyway, so I’ve become quite skilled at tuning out da noise.
That is, until the full frontal assault of say, the “EL POLLO LOCO” song hits me full blast (and BTW, what is it with those commercials that they play them like every thirty seconds? So fucking annoying.) and I look up to see my husband actually watching the mindnumbing commercials like a zombie. Seriously dude? You are watching this nonsense? “Well, I’m just gonna have to turn it back on again” is his argument…puh–leeze. Like it’s just soooo hard to push that little MUTE button.
No, no, nononononono. If you can’t handle the job of the volume controller, then let go of the remote. Hand it ova. I know it is part of your manliness and all, but I won’t tell anyone. Pushing the mute button is a job requirement. All part of the job.
It was written in the vows somewhere…I know it was.
