The Worshiping Has Begun

There are two things that my husband will wrestle the remote from you for, and those are college football games - preferably live - and anything even remotely related to the TV show Deadliest Catch, or as I call it, The Arthritic Adventures of Bait Boy*. About a month ago, Kenin WROTE ON OUR REFRIGERATOR CALENDAR that season 3 of Bait Boy would begin on April 3, and has pontificated every day since about just how much he adores this show. (And yes, I'm using the word 'adores', because 'likes' wouldn't even begin to address the amount of emotion Kenin has towards it.)

So, yesterday, hubby came home from work, grabbed the remote and began looking for episodes of the first two seasons of the show because usually there is marathon upon marathon of this show prior to a new season actually beginning. Upon discovering that the only marathon to be had was Dirty Jobs, he pouted loudly and once again asked/pleaded/offered up 7 virgins as a sacrifice/begged that I buy him the earlier seasons on DVD for his upcoming birthday, and could I please have them delivered immediately, if not sooner, because his world would collapse if he didn't have some Bait Boy to hold him off for the next 3 days.

People, as far as Kenin is concerned, this show is like porn, only a million times better.

So tonight, as Kenin surfed the TV Guide, God looked down on him and said, "Let there be The Deadliest Catch." And sure enough, there it was! I think he wet himself when he saw the recaps were on, but I'm not sure if it's because he lost bladder control or the ability to swallow his drool. He made sounds that scared small children and farm animals as he attempted to express his happiness. I, too, almost wet myself, but it was because I was laughing so hard at the man I adore way too much.

*I love my husband, but he has this delusional idea that he'll be heading to Alaska next winter for the crab season and he'll end up working on one of those damn boats. The position that the newbie on the boat gets is that of bait boy, and if I've told him once, I've told him a hundred times that he's too damn arthritic to even do that job. But because I love him so much, I just humor him and tell him, yes, darlin', they'll hire you in a New York minute. In fact, they'll practically beg you to work for them. But first they'll change the name of the show to reflect your importance to them. It'll now be known as The Arthritic Adventures of Bait Boy. And you'll be the star.