I have a problem. I don't think I'm normal.
It's September. From what I understand, this means new shows on tv, and new seasons of old shows.
I don't care.*
Desperate Housewives offends me. House makes me roll my eyes. I tried to watch an episode of Grey's Anatomy once; I almost threw up. American Idol? Been there, done that, about 6 times too many.
So what am I excited about?
When I see the promos for the start of the NFL season, I get a tingly feeling in my stomach.
I'm even kind of holding a grudge against someone who suggested the other day that the Lions aren't worth watching anymore.
There's not much I enjoy more than coming home from Mass on Sunday and curling up on the couch with my hubby to watch the games. This year, it will be with the chicken wings we discovered.
How did this happen to me? Was I destined to develop this boy-like quality? Or is this a result of the gender imbalance in my household?
Speaking of Mr. Smith, he says this makes me the coolest wife ever.
I guess maybe it's not such a problem after all.
*I'm certainly not claiming to be one of those good people who don't watch any tv. I do. I even enjoy The Biggest Loser and will be watching that this season, starting tonight. Just please do not ask me what I think about whatever happened on the 307th season of Big Brother last night. I feel yucky just typing the name of that one.