What happens when the TV dies

We came home today, from spending our 'disposable' cash at Target, to find the living room TV had died it's final death. We have two more TV's -- one in each boy's bedroom, and as far as I'm concerned, the living room TV is mostly nuisance (I do watch it once in awhile, but frequently realize I'd be happier with it off). Who needs to hear Futurama at 40 on the volume control, while the bedroom TV's sit idle? Not me.

As a result, our house has been unusually quiet this evening. I think I've just about convinced Gary that there's no rush to repair/replace the TV -- the expense helped, too. We're heading into the warmer days, when we can go most of the day without really needing TV in the living room, if we're even in the house.

Another convincing aspect of my argument is what happens when there's no TV. While I was busy posting the last entry, Gary came in and whispered into my ear, "you have to see this." I handed him the camera and we crept over to the kitchen to look in on the goings on in the living room. Here's what we saw, and it just melted our hearts!

This is one of the I Spy books, with beautiful two-page pictures of villages, or beaches, or train stations, with captions that read, "I spy an oilcan, two loose screws, Two saw blades, and seven horseshoes;...." on the picture of a darkened, abandoned barn with a wagon-wheel. Andy was reading aloud while the boys both looked to see how many things they could spy.

And Gary wonders why I'm not mourning the TV's demise!