TV Show Reality Check Done by Husband

I was flipping through Netflix and came upon the old TV series Beauty and the Beast.  I soon found myself sighing like millions of women since the 80s.. watching Vincent and Catherine.. the romance.  Oh the things we wish men really would say.  Read us Shakespeare... whisper in some deep voice that comes from behind a curtain of luxurious locks of feline hair.. *sigh*  Tell me how you can't live without my very presence... how you can feel my every feeling of sadness or joy... ohh...ohhhh .. I just .. *my imagination backfires here*

What a load of garbage.  My husband came in with the reality airbag and ruined the whole chick flick scene.  I had to dry my eyes and get my head out of the clouds and remember where I was.  The only thing in my life resembling that show is the dark hole my house can become.. and when the dishwasher and the washing machine are going.. a mind stretch makes my house sound like those pipes always clanging in the show..

No one is leaving me pressed roses inside a Shakespeare book of sonnets.  John might have the hair... but that's about it.  I hate the reality air bag.  I love John.  He has his moments.  Moments.  I want an event.  A spectacle even.  I wish my imagination worked better, but it doesn't... most of the time I don't mind.  You know, that show is one of the good memories I have about my mom.  We used to watch it together.  *sigh*  Double airbag hit. 

I guess since the analogy is TV....

There is an episode of Roseanne that kind of sums these feelings up.  Roseanne fantasizes that Dan looks like Fabio... and Fabio is lying in her bed with Dan's voice saying not so sexy things... and Roseanne says: Don't talk Dan.

Don't talk John.