I watch just enough of my wife's TV shows to (kind of) know what's going on

This is what it's like when I start asking my wife questions about whatever she's watching on television. I think she enjoys when I interrupt her.

My wife Terry has always been someone who gets things done.

Most days, you can find her working around our house cleaning this, organizing that, cooking dinner, or otherwise keeping things together.

Whenever she takes a break from her various household duties (and she isn't out thrifting or spending time with our grandson), you can find her in one of two places.

Sometimes she sits in the corner of the living room putting together large jigsaw puzzles of the kind I could never in my life finish.

Other times she reclines on our couch and watches TV.

This usually takes the form of Terry making her way episode by episode through a multi-season show like "Smallville," "Charmed," "Supernatural," or many others.

Most recently, she has been watching "Once Upon a Time," the ABC fantasy drama series that ran from 2011 through 2018.

Usually she does this alone, as I'm either at the office or otherwise occupied with whatever my to-do list prescribes for the day. But a few times a week, often right after I shower at night, I come sit on the couch and watch whatever she's watching.

Which of course means I randomly pop in and out of television series that have complicated, evolving plots.

Which also means I'm not always 100% sure what's going on.

Still, I've usually seen enough of a given show to know: (a) the main characters, (b) the general direction of the story, and (c) how these series are generally written.

So I can follow along.

Sort of.

I try not to plop right down and start asking my wife questions to bring myself up to speed, but from time to time, that's exactly what I do.

Sometimes she'll answer mid-episode without hitting the pause button, while other times she will sigh, stop the show, and fill me in.

I also do various Google searches to discover major plot points, the fate of certain characters, and even the backgrounds of the actors on the show.

This last item is something that either amuses or annoys my wife, I can't be sure. Out of nowhere I'll pipe in with something like, "The actress who plays the evil queen is Lana Parrilla. She used to be on '24.' She has her own online clothing company."

Terry, who has asked for none of this information, will stare at me for a second. Sometimes she'll sarcastically thank me "for that important update" before returning to her show. Other times she'll simply turn her attention back to the TV without saying a word.

Either way, I like to think I've enhanced her viewing experience.

Sleep-wise, having pets can be worse than having babies

Our first two children, Elissa and Chloe, began sleeping through the night within a week of coming home from the hospital.

Jared, our #3, took a few months.

Melanie, the next in line, honestly took a good year and a half.

Jack, the youngest, was somewhat less than that but still gave us troubles.

I've often said that, had this all happened in reverse order and the first two were problem sleepers, there would not have been five Tennant kids. You would right now be reading a blog titled "Two Kids and That's It."

Those days are long in the past, of course, but I'm still often awakened at times when I would rather not be awakened.

Nowadays, the culprits are our five cats. And really, it's mostly Fred.

Fred is ready to wake up and eat any time after 4:30am. I'm an early riser, but he tends to start bothering me during that delicious half-hour before I get up when the bed feels warm and comfortable and you doze so peacefully.

This bothering takes the form of questioning meows, followed by Fred positioning his face literally within three inches of mine (as if to say, "hey, you awake?")

This is always followed by Fred placing a front paw on my cheek. It would almost be sweet if it wasn't so annoying.

I will usually roll away or swat his paw from my face to indicate my disagreement with Fred's position that it is, in fact, time to start the day. But at that point it's really no use. There's no way I'm going back to sleep, so after five minutes of just laying there to show Fred who's boss (though he clearly knows the truth), I roll out of bed and proceed to feed the cats, scoop their litter boxes, sweep up around said boxes, etc.

All things considered, I think I would prefer going back to the babies-in-the-house phase of our life.