However, since I can't exactly tell my husband what to watch, we have had to do some negotiating. Here are the terms: he does not have to watch sappy shows with predictable tear-jerking/medical tragedy and I do not have to watch Hunt for Bigfoot on Syfy with him. There are exceptions to these unwritten rules, but the hard and fast law is in regards to the "yelling shows", as I call them. They are not allowed, ever. Period. Thankfully, my spouse agrees with me about the format, even if we don't see eye to eye on the subject matter. (see this post: Newt Gingrich Is Not An Orthopedist)
This rule includes basically all cable news talk shows regardless of their points of view. I don't like any of those shows because a. I don't think that they promote a genuine dialog of various positions on an given issue and b. listening to the shouting and talking all over people is just really chaps my ass and c. I do enough yelling for everyone. We're all full up in the yelling department, so to speak. (Don't judge me - I have Scotch-Irish roots so my crazy is genetic. My British DNA is the only thing keeping me sort of level.)
Anyway, here is how Bill O'Reilly got involved. Every morning, we watch the Today Show on our bedroom TV. Also every morning, the kids come into our bathroom for me to make sure their hair is reasonable. This morning, I was working on Cecilia's rat's nest while Matt Lauer was interviewing Bill, who as you may have guessed, I'm not a fan of. However, everything was cool until they started discussing Whitney Houston and the "yelling" started.
Me: I am not listening to this garbage! Bill has turned the Today Show into a yelling show!
Then I firmly closed the bathroom door for emphasis. It was not a slam. Mostly.
Me, a few minutes later when I tried to exit: Hey - the door knob won't turn! Hey! Oh my gosh, we're locked in. Lawton? Lawton! Honey?
Honey has already gone to the garage to select the various implements of destruction needed to break into one's own bathroom. Hence the no answer. He came back and began getting us sprung.
Cecilia: We're doooooomed! and all other manner of ten year old silly girl jibberish plus sound effects.
This went on for about ten minutes until my husband got the doorknob off and we got out of the bathroom, thank goodness. I really was not looking forward to climbing out the window and was even less excited about getting my daughter out of it. And, in all fairness, the doorknob has been acting up for several weeks, so we should have considered ourselves already warned.
However. The long and short of it is this: the way I see it, Bill O'Reilly locked me in the bathroom with his yelling on my beloved Today Show. When Ann gets back from whatever secretive mission she's on, I am soooo telling on him.