Wife Swap

This won't be a memorable post, but-- as always-- I am avoiding something more productive.

I don't like to sit in silence. In silence, I notice every time the air conditioner turns on or off, the chain on the ceiling fan bumping the bulbs, and every other time the house creaks or sighs. So every day when I sit down with my textbook, my constant companion, I flip the TV on. I turn the volume down and look for something I've seen before so that I'm less likely to get pulled in. My usual preference is ABC Family because I'm convinced there's not an episode of Full House or Sabrina, the Teenage Witch that I haven't seen (is that sad in and of itself?); however, ABC Family has changed it's line up without consulting me. I am unamused by My Wife and Kids and whatever the new show is called, so I have been forced to look elsewhere for background noise.

Today, I landed on Wife Swap. Not my first pick, but maybe I'm too choosey when it comes to peripheral sounds. Contrary to it's purpose, I have been sucked into this little piece of reality television. It's like a train wreck. These moms switch places for two weeks: the first week, they abide by the native mother's rules, and the second week the implant mom makes her own rules. Immediately, the children rebel and the husbands get uppity. The moms weep and yell and seem totally devastated by their new surroundings.

Newsflash, Wives: you signed up for this. It is only a two-week engagement. Deal.

I like to picture my own mother in these situations. Call it good manners, call it Southern hospitality, call it what you will: Cheryl would never tell a man to shave his head to become a more "modern" man, and she would never tell kids they must quit their sports and learn what it's like to relax. If presented with food she wouldn't usually eat during her first week, Cheryl would quietly and politely pick around the food and make do-- she would never question why the family eats the way it does. And Cheryl would never, ever yell at her new family. She doesn't yell at her current family.

These people are out of control. They know when they sign up that they are going to be put in a situation that is as completely different from their own as is possible. Love to camp and hike? Congratulations, you just won yourself a ride to the concrete jungle. Are sporting events and competition your bag? Well, enjoy your two-week stay in the hippie commune; no need to pack your running shoes... moccasins will do. Do you feel progressive because your husband is a stay-at-home dad? Get ready, you're about to move in with a man who is married to his job.

People amaze me. I'm not so sure that my family is the definition of normal... but I'm thinking our relatively high level of normalcy may disqualify us as candidates for good reality television.