Our PVR broke and we’ve been without it for about a week now. It’s a rental. We thought we could just bring it to a Bell centre and get a replacement, and although that seems like it would be a logical solution, apparently That Is Not The Way They Do Things. The PVR is being shipped to us, and it was supposed to arrive in five or so business days. There’s still no sign of the thing.
You what is kind of interesting? The same thing goes through my head every night, about 30 minutes after the kids go to bed. My thought process goes something like this:
“Oh geez, I’m so tired. I think I’m just going to flop down and watch OH CRAP I FORGOT WE DON’T HAVE A PVR.”
Seriously. Every. Night. I secretly wonder if this is a sign of early onset Alzheimer’s.
But you know what happens next? I find something else to do. I muck around on the Internet for awhile or read my book (which happens to be Wuthering Heights right now). It hasn’t been that bad. In fact, I could get used to this.
The girls have accepted a TV-free life as well. Last weekend we reminded the girls that they couldn’t watch TV on Saturday or Sunday morning. (It’s the only time they watch.) And you know what Sarah said, and I quote: “YAY, MORE TIME FOR ART AND READING!”
God I love that kid.
