The Hurricane That Wasn’t, The TV That Is

My husband’s dream has finally come to fruition.  His months of painstaking research have all led to this one great moment, the arrival of his big screen (3D) tv.  He’s in his glory.

Our wedding day, important, the births of his three children, remarkable, the delivery of a plasma television, the best darn day of his life.

All conversations now revolve around the tv.

“Don’t touch the tv.”

“Don’t run near the tv.”

And this morning, Second Son:  “Dad, do you know where the screwdriver is?”

Husband:  “Why are you asking me where the screwdriver is?”

Second Son:  “I need it.”

Husband:  “You’re not bringing it near the tv?”

Second Son: “No.”

My husband wasn’t so sure he should believe him, so, the first thing I heard this morning was, “Wife, don’t let the kids touch my tv.”

That’s a lot of pressure, especially since it is sitting precariously on a side table until we find it a more permanent home.

I warned him, I cannot follow the kids from room to room all day.

He closed his ears.

The tv is not hooked up to cable, yet.  Comcast canceled because of the hurricane (which really just felt like a bad storm).  I told the operator that this news might just cause my husband to cry. I wasn’t kidding.  She didn’t care.

He was out looking for a receiver, for his soon to be completed home theatre, when I called to tell him about Comcast’s postponement, he was less than pleased.  Fifty nine inches may have caused him to lose a little perspective.

My husband is in love with his new tv, but he did mention that he should have gone bigger.  I feel a little bit like a character out of Farenheit 451.He came home and set up the DVD player and managed to connect to the internet (ok, I have to admit, even I thought that was pretty cool).  All was not lost.

In the meantime, he waits patiently for Tuesday, while I bar everyone from the living room.

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