A spoonful of humour makes the medicine go down.
An Open Letter to my Family During TV Time.
You have known me for twenty years now, and therefore you should know that I am not, nor will I ever be mistaken for, a patient person. Never is this more true than when I am engrossed in one of my weekly TV shows, or as I like to call them, "mah stories". Since a simple, "Please DO NOT talk while my TV shows are on" appears to be insufficient, I would like to create for you a detailed outline of the rules I would like to implement. They are as follows:
Do not address me while I am watching TV. I will not respond, and therefore incessant repitition of my name will be fruitless.
TV time is not the appropriate time to deal with my sister's self-esteem issues. She is 23 years old, if she feels fat in the outfit she wishes to wear to the Katy Perry concert and she hasn't yet drawn the connection between her gargantuan thighs and the triple-cheese pizza she is shoving in her mouth, then that is her problem and can be dealt with on her own time.
While we're at it, sister, TV time is also not the appropriate time to recount in detail the hilarious things your friends seem to wait specifically until 8:30pm on a Thursday night to post on Facebook.
It is not the time, father, to tell the water-cooler stories of your highly uninteresting day doing paper work in the police station office, because you're now a few years off retirement and too old to be sent to do actual police work.
Father, I hate to break this to you, but I don't find cars interesting, and neither does anyone but you. I realise I'm not the son you waited nine months for, but that's not my cross to bear. If you wish to talk about cars, please do so while you force us to sit through Top Gear. It is inappropriate during Desperate Housewives. This is particularly true as you seem to have been born without the ability of volume control. The television set, having been created with volume control, is already superior to you in this way. And they say machines can't replace people...
Yes, everything the cats do is utterly adorable. Believe me, I am squeeing on the inside. However it occurs to me that if we can live and work under that assumption, then it can officially go without saying. I do realise this is only partially your fault; in this age of lolcats it is very difficult to resist speaking in 'can has cheezburger' language at every cute face they make; also we do have very showy cats. Still, humour me. They will be around to do more cute things long after the credits roll.
Mother, I am not impressed by the apparent psychic powers you seem to develop mere seconds before an important plot point is revealed. I am even less impressed that you feel the need to share these revelations with the room. Don't make me come back there.
Whispering is still talking. If it's above silence, I can hear you.
There you have it. Eight easy-to-follow rules. If you have any questions, my door is always open. Except for during TV time, for which I refer you to the above eight points.
I appreciate your consideration.
Total Comments 3
Posted May 5th, 2011 at 06:47 AM by solarowl
Posted May 5th, 2011 at 11:45 AM by Lornami
Posted May 5th, 2011 at 03:00 PM by Sodom
Updated August 30th, 2011 at 06:24 AM by Sodom
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