In this humorous satirizing of lazy people and their refusal to take responsibility of their actions, a father comes home and finds to his dismay that he has lost the remote control.
Where's the Remote?
I'm finally home.
I got out of my car and slammed the door. As I made my way up the driveway, I loosened my way-too-tight tie with a sigh of relief.
Ugh…I can't wait to just sit down—especially after a day of my boss yelling at me and calling me stupid.
I was finally at my doorstep. I rang the doorbell. About fifteen long, agonizing seconds passed.
What's taking that blasted woman so long?
I echoed my thoughts aloud as I banged on the door. A second later, my wife opened the door.
I stormed into the living room, barreling past her shoulder along the way. "Make me a sammich."
Jesus Christ…I work my butt off 8 hours a day in this family and they can't get the door open at a moment's notice? This is blasphemy, this is madness!
My wife gave me a "Hmph" before walking into the kitchen, her rightful place in this house. Meanwhile, I walked into the living room.
As my teenage son navigated Mario through a dangerous set of obstacles on the big screen TV, my early 'tween' daughter cheered.
The moment they saw me, however, they groaned simultaneously.
Oh sure, show annoyance at the man who bought you into the world…and bought you that stupid game!
My anger was clearly evident, because my kids quickly saved the game, unplugged the console and bolted upstairs.
I grabbed the remote, turned on the TV then threw it somewhere before plopping down on the couch. My wife slammed my grand sammich on the table in front of me with the works: Toasted bread, ham, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and other delicious ingredients!
My mood brightened considerably as I stuffed a handkerchief down my collar.
"Thanks babe!" I said in a gruff voice before I smacked her on the butt. She gave me a death glare before slipping in her headphones and heading to the bedroom.
Aw, yeah…I'm not moving another inch until 10:00 PM.
To my horror, I discovered that the channel the TV was on was a children's channel.
"Coming up next…!" Began the over enthusiastic announcer. "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic!"
I groaned in misery.
Where's the remote?
I looked left and right on my couch, but it was nowhere to be found.
Did I just lose it…?
In my head I pictured my boss giving me a lecture on how stupid I was if I couldn't even keep up with a huge piece of plastic.
No, it couldn't have been me! I decided. It was those blasted kids!I was about to get up and start my hunt for it, but then I remembered the promise I made to myself moments earlier.
My eyes darted back and forth the pace of the room, but it was nowhere to be found.
"Jack! Kate! Where's the remote?" I yelled at my children, mouth full of food.
There was no response.
Well, I'm definitely not getting up, so I guess I'll have to watch...this.
To be honest, the show wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Against everything a man should be, I found myself getting into the simple plot and charming characters of the two-part pilot episode.
"…Dad?" Jack had wondered downstairs at the climax of the second episode. At that moment I was apparently so wrapped up into the events I was leaning forward and in tears as the gravity of the situation increased on Twilight Sparkle and her friends.
"I didn't know you liked My Little Pony!" my son laughed as I wracked my brain to think of some great excuse on why I was crying over a little girls' TV show.
Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in my head.
"Where did you lose the remote, son! I looked everywhere and I couldn't find it, so I had no choice but to watch this garbage! It's so…frustrating!" I rambled, secretly wishing he would hurry up and leave so I could finish up the episode.
"You don't have to lie, Dad. The remote is right there." The remote was lying on the carpet floor a few feet from me.
My son was silent as I realized what a fool I had become.
"Anyway…" Jack continued. "It's cool that you like My Little Pony. In fact, I caught a few episodes with Kate once, and I really liked what I saw."
Something akin to a lightning bolt struck me. "Are you gay, son?"
"What? No! Not that there's anything wrong with th—"
"We're going to church, now."