So the Hubs has been squirreling away money for a while in his TV fund and since tomorrow is his birthday I kicked in enough to help him reach his goal.
He is now the proud owner of a 47-inch LCD flat panel HDTV.
And I'm in hiding in the bedroom. I don't do well with change...the hopeful kind or not.
We had this antique old TV from, like, the 90s. It was the bomb back in the day. Problem is...these new-fangled flat-panel TVs are wider than the old kind. Which means the new one doesn't fit in my lovely entertainment center. Boo.
So now the armoire part of my entertainment center has been moved to the other side of the room and the two bookcases are now flanking my coffee table upon which the Hubs' new toy is perched. And all my knick-knacks that were sitting on said bookcases are now scattered on my fireplace hearth and mantel. And I can see every. speck. of. dust. on them. And the dust bunnies are attacking. Please tell me y'all have monster dust bunnies under your furniture too!
So, I was supposed to read the instructions for Hubs because you know men don't read instructions. I took them out of the box and they unfolded into a sheet as big as my dining room table. And they were covered in color-coded diagrams and technical jargon. At this point I informed Hubs that he did not want my help. For the sake of my sanity. And our marriage.
I hear him on the phone now with Customer Service. That can't be good.
And now he's muttering something about needing a technician. Shhhh. I'm going dark.