(In case you missed it, see Cutting the Cord, Part 1)
The timing was perfect.
The Big Love series finale was over (R.I.P. Bill Henrickson, *tear*). Top Chef All Stars had finished (Go Blais!). Nothing was holding us back.
The time was now, or the time was never.
We’d been talking about it for a while. We’d been crunching the numbers and researching our options, gearing up for the fateful day we’d cut ties with our cable bill.
The day was today.
In a moment of inspiration one Friday afternoon, I took the plunge. I called up the cable company and braced myself for a fight. If they offered me a discount, I was going to say NO! If they offered to rework my channel package, I was going to say NO!
Surprisingly, they didn’t try to fight me, and within a few minutes I was informed that our cable would be shut off the next day. That was easy!
I cheerfully texted A-Rob as I got off the phone.
“I just cancelled cable!”
He texted back.
” :) ”
The moment had come, and I’d triumphed.
I’d ripped off the Band-aid. I’d followed through with the plan. I’d cut the cord!
The next day was Saturday.
A-Rob and I were sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by sunlight as it filtered through the blinds, enjoying our life-giving morning coffee, and talking about all the money we’d be saving with our new cable changes.
The kids were soaking up what would be their last doses of Nickelodeon, blissfully unaware that they wouldn’t be consuming television in this manner again.
Hmm. We should probably tell them.
As A-Rob and I were chatting about our new television regime – streaming Netflix through the Wii and HuluPlus through the PlayStation, I brought up the fact that some of our shows weren’t available in any of these platforms – like his fave, Mythbusters.
Then A-Rob looked at me kind of funny, “wait, you cancelled ALL of the cable? We’re not getting any basic channels? No Mythbusters?”
Er… Um… Yeah. Unfortunately, miscommunications of this magnitude are the norm in our family.
At this moment I felt a tiny little pin prick my balloon of triumphant cable-free happiness.
Later that day, I figured I should let my six-year-old EeBee know that his beloved Nickelodeon would be going away after today. So we sat down together that afternoon, and I dropped the news.
“What?! You’re cancelling cable? That’s so lame!” As he turned on the television to watch some more.
Balloon getting flatter…
Luckily, we had an event to attend that night and were all away from the television for the rest of the evening. But when we returned home, the error message on the cable box told us that the deed had been done. Cable was gone. We’d have two unhappy children tomorrow.
The next day, in a twist of irony, the kids never even turned the TV on. I mean, the whole frickin’ day they never turned it on once! That never happens. Could the frugal gods be smiling on me? Or maybe this was just the calm before the storm.
Later that night, tired from a long day of playing, the kids decided to settle in and watch some TV for the last 10 minutes before bed. As A-Rob turned it on, he informed (reminded?) them that we didn’t have cable anymore.
What happened next, was chaos.
At least, it felt like chaos with the amount of six-year-old negativity blowing up all over that couch.
“That’s so lame!”
“Netflix is so stupid!”
“We’ll have nothing to watch!”
“I wanted to see if there was a new Young Justice!”
“I can’t believe you did this!”
“No more Nickelodeon?”
Even two-year-old Baby Rock chimed in, mirroring his older brother. “That’s so lame!” he said, in his teeny toddler voice.
A-Rob and I exchanged mutual frowns. My happy cable free bliss balloon was now just a sad puddle of rubber.
And at that moment, the cancelling of the cable was quickly demoted from being the Plan, to an Experiment.
To be continued…