TVs, or, REALLY, why I have allowed so many TVs in our household

We have a problem with televisions in our household. It's not the reception, and it's not even watching too much TV; it's the sheer number of TVs. We have Nine working TVs, with plans to add 3 more. And that is for a family for Four. The cable guy had to put some kind of booster/amplifier thing on the incoming line to get the signal to go to all the TVs.

And I blame Ryan.

For one of his milestone birthdays (40th..sorry, honey), he wanted a 60 inch TV. I thought it was ridiculous. First, to spend that much money, and second, I thought a TV that big was both ridiculous and wasteful.


So, 40th b-day rolls around, and we get one. And, once again, I was proven wrong. Wrong! So Wrong!

I love Ryan's TV. I mean, like, looooooooooove, Ryan's TV. And I love it in a sinful way. With the kind of love that should be saved for living things.

When we watch baseball on it (and I do not enjoy watching baseball), I love every minute of it! You can see every blade of grass in the outfield, and when the cameraman pans the crowd, if you were seated behind third base, I could point you out and text you what logo was on your hat.

And when we watch the Travel Channel, I no longer have the need to go to exotic locales because it's like I am there ALREADY! And my bathroom is nice and handy and (somewhat) clean.

Then marry that Sony WEGA up with my Harmony Remote. GLORY BE! Or I think I meant I want to marry Ryan's TV AND the Harmony Remote. A fantastic threesome and Happily Every After.