Much to my husband's chagrin, I am AWOL on Sunday nights.
I'm not sure when it happened, but there are so many television shows to watch on Sunday night I need two DVRs to record them all.
I start at 8pm with Mob Wives. Don't be a hater, I can't help myself. I didn't create the show or star in it. I just can't look away.
That takes me to 9pm where I run into difficulty. My first choice is Nurse Jackie immediately followed by The Big C. At the same time is The Good Wife and Desperate Housewives. Fortunately, Desperate Housewives is in its final episodes ever and The Good Wife had its season finale last night.
That time slot won't be a conflict in a few weeks . . . unless, of course, summer programming yields some other wonderful "reality" show for me to be unable to look away from.
Which brings me to the reality show du jour - The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I'm not sure if it's because I'm from New Jersey or because I have family that live in North Jersey, but this show rings true for me and I can't seem to get enough of it. I have a cousin who actually got married at The Brownstone and, yes, they are Italian. If loving this show is wrong, I don't want to be right.
Did you notice the pattern? Mob Wives, Desperate Housewives, The Good Wife, Real Housewives. All of my Sunday night viewing is about women in various forms of wifehood.
By the time RHONJ is over, the rest of the family is sound asleep for the night. And I've had my fill of all kinds of wives.