Yet Another Remote Control

    “Child’s Play” became “Adult’s Curse” when programming our Universal

Controller.  Being Cheerleader Wife, while I could have finished in two minutes,

meant driving to Sears after Geoff sent the device through his big screen three

hours later.

    He unpacked everything upon arriving home.  My voice oozed angrily disgusted

tones, seeing yet another shiny new remote.  “Try duct taping this one directly

under your thumb, Dear.  Maybe we can actually keep it longer than ten seconds.

Each television gives us fifty less gallons of gas money.  Next time, you’re

walking.”

    Eyes rolled.  “Whatever,” said Mister Idiot.

    Is stupidity grounds for divorce?