Much of my time at home in the winter is spent indoors trying to stay warm on the couch...any movement is comprised of standing up, walking to the thermostat, and turning the heat back up after my dad comes into the main side of the house and garrumphs about how "hot it is, how can you stand it?!" This he proclaims while wearing a flannel shirt, a thick flannel jacket, and a down vest. I kid you not. Luckily, he only gives me a hard time for raising the thermostat every hour or so, though it's very obvious that once I leave he doesn't tolerate any deviation from 60ºF.
So, this time spent on the couch is mainly to catch up on a year's worth of HGTV, Food Network, TLC, and Minnesota sports (though there's also the yearly Star Wars or Lord of the Rings marathon...never do I love surround sound and a giant TV so much!).
But most of the time we watch a mishmash of Chopped, Say Yes to the Dress, House Hunters, Four Weddings, and Iron Chef. But--this year, a new show caught my attention: Property Brothers. Essentially, they are a two brother team (twins!) that help find home buyers a fixer-upper, and then they fix it up, making it into their dream home.
Even better, they do do this while being A, incredibly knowledgeable; B, funny; and C, kind. Three quite attractive characteristics, if I do say so myself.
Since I can hardly avoid posting a picture, especially after I waxed rhapsodic about
my love of Matt Bomer and his character Neil Caffery's vests, here they are:
Keep in mind, at the point in my vacation when the following conversation took place, I was permanently stationed on the couch due to illness, enjoying a robust diet of jello and soup, with kleenex close at hand.
So--I was checking facebook during a commercial break, and of course, the eighteenth engagement announcement popped up. And I kind of just lost it. I proclaimed that obviously, one of these fine gentlemen hosting a television program would be a perfect fit. "They're driven, they're smart, they obviously put a lot of care into what they do, they're older and probably in the almost-ready-to-settle-down stage, they love dogs! And kids!"
My mom looked at me and laughed.
And, truly, at this point, I was probably close to wailing. I was frustrated. (and to be fair, in pain. I blame the double ear and sinus infection I would be diagnosed with two days later).
After I made such a spectacle of my frustration, my youngest brother took off his headphones and even joined in: "Yeah, Bridget,
it's about high time you got a boyfriend. I mean, then he can take
me to baseball games, play video games with me, all that."
So there I was, pathetically trying to set myself up with a television host. The lack of practical and rational thinking was impressive. My solution to everyone's dismissal of this particular pronouncement of mine meant that I must investigate further! And after spending a few minutes online, I found out that they would be at Mall of America that very weekend. I was over the moon.
"See! This is perfect! I will go meet them, I will invite them out for drinks! And that will be that!" (followed directly by blowing my nose with a tissue)
My other brother broke in:
"...Yeah, and you'll get thrown out by security as some nut-job stalker."
Alas, he's probably right. I did try to convince him to go see them and pass along my number, but I didn't succeed. Probably for the best.
And of course, I woke up the next morning after dreaming that I took them to Punch Pizza for dinner. So funny. Thanks, subconscious, for making me laugh myself into a coughing fit. Lord.
