Testing My Husband’s Love

I don’t even know how I did it, really. I was knitting and drinking a soda and reaching for something else with another of my tentacles and somehow I knocked the television remote onto the hardwood floor. This wasn’t the first time the remote had been knocked into the floor, but all too sadly, it shall be the last.

It’s gone now. Gone. And, much like Firefly, no prayers to the television gods will bring it back.

I did everything for it I could.

I removed its batteries. I put its batteries back in. I took them out again. I put them back in. You get the idea. I also took the liberty of clunking it ever so gently on the arm of the sofa, in hopes that whatever tiny mechanism had got loose might find its way home again mid-clunk. But, alas! No luck.

When all hope was lost, I made the call. I pray that none of you will ever have to phone a loved one and tell them you killed the remote. If you ever do, try and muster up a cry in your voice so that you sound properly repentant.

But, in all honesty, Michael is taking the news far better than I expected. He callously tossed the broken remote into the trash and he says he’s scoping out a new model. He is talking about the remote, isn’t he?

Comments 11

  • HAHAHA!!! i know what you’re talking about, but thank God there’s something else men love besides the remote: buying new ones!!!

  • There are those cool Star Wars lightsabre remote controls. (Yes, i am a geek and have one).
    Add to the list of television the television gods should bring back… the exquisite Wonderfalls. At least we are getting Serenity.

  • (snort) she said “tentacles!”

    They make generic remotes that are rumored to be capable of operating more than one device. I saw a picture of one once.

    (I enjoyed Firefly.)

  • OOOH. Death of the remote. Definitely tragic; I’m glad he’s not too upset. 🙂 You might have to get up and actually switch the station by hand….noooooooooooooOOOOOO!

  • i note that you don’t mention poking at each and every button on the remote in quick succession, in some vain hope that there is a magic button which will bring it back to life. May I suggest this process prior to the demolition of said remote. Not because it will work, you understand, but because I desperately want you to be just a little more like me.

  • Let me tell you, if the two of you ever end up in court (God forbid), YOU are screwed. As soon as a judge hears about this episode, you are going down! Assuming of couse it’s a male judge.

  • I’m making my way through netflixed firefly right now. Slowly to prepare myself for the end. but there’s a movie coming, isn’t there?

  • Awfully worried that said husband has extracted terrible revenge as your last post was over a week ago. Surely he didn’t “drop” your computer in exchange?

  • If it weren’t in the trash, I’d suggest you fiddle with the metal brackets that hold the batteries in place. When I drop my discman at the gym (which is often), it always smashes those things flat and I’ve got to re-adjust them with tweezers before it will work again. If the trash is still around, you could fish it out and give it a shot. Your hubster will marry you all over again (if you want him to ;)…

  • That got a laugh out of me, I’ll be careful though.

  • Ours is on it’s way out, too. There must be a fortune to be had in the remote control industry.

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