What I Am Watching

My favorite shows are all on A&E right now. Family Plots, Airline, and my newest obsession...Growing Up Gotti. I also watch HBO because I can't get enough of Sopranos, Carnivale and Da Ali G Show. On Comedy Central, I try to catch The Dave Chappelle Show and South Park as often as possible. when I was pregnant with Peepers, Roy and I were Sopranos addicts. We would gear up for the Sunday night time slot by preparing a suitable TV snack...getting the room all tidy...depositing Cris in front of Cartoon Network in the living room...and finding where in the hell I put my glasses last (which usually took a good 10mins out of our prep time). It was pretty routine. I would situate my very large pregnant ass semi-comfortably on the bed...propped up by a harem's worth of pillows to support my girth. Roy would equip himself with two popsicles...ask if I want a popsicle...I say no...and then settle himself onto the bed...turn the tv to the correct channel....and watch in slow-motion as I reached over to the nightstand and patted around the alarm clock with my swollen hand looking for my glasses. I cannot comfortably watch tv without my glasses and it never failed that no matter how much I could swear I left the dang things on the night stand...they were NEVER there. never. ever. so then I would be obliged to pretend I was going to roll myself off of the bed and search for them...but because my husband is such a sweet, kind man...he would inevitably take pity on his fat, pregnant wife and go look himself. he would sigh, hand me his popsicles and begin the hunt. what was I doing? me? oh I suppose I was just laying there somewhat like Jabba the Hut. waiting eagerly for the return of my Salacious Crumb and eyeing up his popsicles. 'Are they in the kitchen?!'....I would call out as I carefully unwrapped one banana flavored frozen treat. 'I don't see them here!'...he would reply. 'Maybe theyre in the basket?!'....I would offer. 'Nope. checked there already...is it on yet?!'....he would ask. 'Not yet! how about the living room?'...I would mumble over the cold, numbing effect of my pilfered popsicle. 'Here they are!'....he would shout triumphantly. 'Thanks hon. where were they?'.....'I found them in the...HEY! is that my popsicle, you little CRAPSTER?!' So it got to be kind of a ritual...that is until Roy started placing his popsicles out of my reach....being that a beached whale can only reach so far.