What Kind of Reality Show Would You Be?

A young couple walks along Canal Street in Manhattan’s Chinatown, New York City, New York.
Copyright by WyoJones. All rights reserved.

So I saw an ad for reality show casting and that got me thinking, what kind of reality show would I be?

My first thought was: BORING.

Watching me type or read a book or try to get three stars in Angry Birds whatever would be a lot like watching paint dry…

…but then I got to wondering…

The hubs and I can be funny. Or scary. Not sure which. Case in point: last weekend we spent half an hour arguing about who picked up the dish towel from the floor.

I know. Weird.  And the beyond weird part, the problem was that the towel got picked up.

It was supposed to be on the floor.

We had a leak I was trying to track it to the source (have since identified our ice maker as the problem). Hence the towel on the floor. (Do you think my odds of becoming a reality star would go up if “they” knew I could use the word hence in a sentence?)

The hubs defense was basically this: “When do I pick up anything off the floor?”

My proof he did it was: I knew I didn’t pick it up. We don’t even have a cat anymore. So it had to be him. (I can produce additional, irrefutable evidence upon request.)

And he does like to play mind games on me. He’ll go for years doing/not doing something, then just randomly do it/not do it so I can’t accuse him of always doing/not doing it.

He’s kind of diabolical, when he’s not being a totally sweet teddy bear. (Which could also be part of his diabolical plan? Hmmmm….)

He denies this, of course. But I know what I know. I’ve lived with the man for 39 years. This month. I know whereof I speak. (Did you see that reality show producers? I used hence and whereof in a blog post. Find that on Duck Dynasty.)

I just don’t know what our show would be called. The Joneses doesn’t have the same extra something as The Kardashians (did anyone else wonder if they snuck out of Star Trek Next Gen…).

Let’s face it, it’s the Joneses who usually use the wrong floor wax, buy the wrong breakfast cereal and file their taxes late. When one isn’t trying to keep up with them (which is totally easy btw, in fact, most people blow right past us…).

And calling it “Keeping Up with the Joneses” is such a cliche. I may be boring as rocks, but I am not a cliche. Maybe we’d get one episode if the focus group managed to stay awake and watch it. And there’s my whole hermit thing. And the hubs tendency to fall asleep without warning. Yes, even in the middle of an argument.

I’ll bet we could get McDonald’s to sponsor the show, though…

So what reality show would you be?

While you’re mulling this important question, be sure to post a comment because you will be entered into my monthly drawing for an AnaBanana gift basket ($25 value—and no, not a reality show, though the name is interesting enough…). A winner is selected and announced the first blog post of the new month.

Perilously yours,

Pauline

“Pauline is the Queen of Steam! Steamrolled is a wild adventure full of wit, intrigue, and an evil overlord to boot. Every page was better than the next!” FirePages

Sometimes you’re the windshield. Sometimes you’re the bug. In the path of a steamroller.

Emily could totally be a reality star. She’s filled with quirk. Why can I write it and not be it?

Have no clue, but you can buy this novel now at your favorite online bookstore.