I have to make a huge confession.
Today I watched television. In the middle of the day. Not just any day but a weekday, while the baby was asleep - a time that is strictly reserved for writing.
But before you judge I’m not to blame. My husband made me do it.
Currently we’re up to the Season Two of Mad Men, our latest obsession and one that we initially missed thanks to the madness of newborn chaos.
Finally we’re catching up with the world as Santa generously delivered Season One, which we quickly devoured and now a friend has lent us Season Two and Three.
DVDs of episodic television are fantastic for the tired, sleep-deprived parent. You can watch it when you want and it’s quicker than a movie so perfect if you tend to fall asleep on the sofa by 9.30pm.
Until last Friday night when I was working to a tight deadline and my husband went on without me, watching not just one but two episodes! I didn’t mind too much. Why should he miss out just because I took too much of a break over Easter and was behind with work?
However it has now posed quite a problem because I have little chance to catch up and he is desperate to move on and finish the season.
You’d think he would want me to be writing my fingers to the bone what with the credit card to pay and our possible up-coming renovations. Plus I didn’t get that television commercial a few weeks ago. But no. Everyday this week he has asked the same question. Have you watched those episodes yet? Can you please do it today?
What could I do? Certainly not let a couple of episodes of a TV show (albeit a good one) come between us. So today with no pressing deadlines I finally succumbed. I wrote half of a pitch to ease my guilt. I made a cup of tea and turned on the telly.
And I have to say I loved every minute of it.
Except I’m feeling even more guilt ridden because the baby woke up, and when I finally got her up, only because I could no longer ignore her cries, she joined me on the sofa to watch the inappropriate lifestyles of those Madison Avenue advertising men. Quite wrong really. But it felt so good. I guess that’s how Don Draper manages to lurch from one indiscretion to the other. It’s a slippery slope but one that’s easy to find, let me tell you.
Then eight minutes before my other daughter’s school bell, we were no-where near the front door.
I had to force myself to turn off the TV and step away. I simply would not have been able to explain my tardiness to the kindergarten teacher and I probably would have found myself telling some sort of lie. That old slippery slope. I know my baby wouldn’t have given me away but what if she absorbed it by some sort of osmosis and grew up thinking that’s how you get around things. Don Draper style.
Meanwhile my five year-old would have been be waiting in an increasingly empty playground as all the other responsible parents who don’t watch TV during the day had picked up there kids and were at home preparing them a nutritious dinner.
Luckily I managed to turn off the telly and get there just on the bell. All is well with the world once more. Discipline and normality has been restored.
I would like to say that was the beginning and end of my daytime viewing but I didn’t quite finish the episode and I have one more to watch. I don’t want to let my husband down so it looks like I’ll have to do the same tomorrow. And I can’t wait. As I say it’s not my fault…