Perhaps my flare for the overdramatic stemmed from my mother's INCESSANT obsession for Lifetime movies.
Every week I was forced to sit down and watch the "heroing" tale of a skinny ass white chick throw up everything she ate or the "fascinating" secret life of a teenage cutter revealing her bloody scissors to her step-father/former pedophile turned murderer for the first time.
And every week my mother made me promise to talk to her before I decided to stick my fingers down my throat or if I just happened to get the urge to stab myself with a meat cleaver.
Whether it was honest parental concern still remains to be seen. I just think my mother had an affinity for that girl who used to play on Life Goes On. Kelly Martin? Lifetime is usually where the washed up actors and actresses end up - I mean Candace Cameron never looked as good as she did when she was DJ Tanner - yet flip to channel 45 and I think she got raped like twenty times in every movie "made for women."
Which, side note:
How is rape made for women? Lifetime is definitely not putting out that cotton tampon feeling. But, I digress.
And so, Lifetime became my guide on "How to Spend Quality Time with Mommy Dearest and Evade the Police if you 'Accidentally' Poison your Cheating Husband." Needless to say,I promised- Girl Scouts Honor- that I would never do as they did on television- but I never said I wouldn't pretend to. And so, scaring my mother with razorblades and blood became a favorite pastime- and this is why mom curses God for my existence. Thus, creating
our own Lifetime story. I win.

My wife is obsessed with that show "Snapped". Should I be concerned?