I didn't revolt, actually. After months...nay, years of resisting, I became a complicit party in the acquisition of a new television. Not that we needed one. Our 36", 800 pound TV worked fine. This minor detail has been, for a long time, my successful stalling tactic.
Then the remote control sensor quit sensing. The spouse saw an opening and suggested getting an LCD TV. Being the thrifty one of the pair, I just ran the cable through a DVD player and used that remote to change channels. I was triumphant; he was defeated. I knew I was just buying time. Yes, I knew.
My spouse demonstrates a pesty predilection for purchasing items when I'm not around to protest. History warned me (in the deep, authoritative voice which history tends to use) that one day soon I would come home and find a new TV sitting in the living room. So I decided that I could be part of the process and at least have a say-so in which TV to get.
After driving around and reading and researching, we picked a new TV. A very large, very expensive TV. And the spouse was there in line, waiting to pay for this behemoth. I meander over, start to say something to him and glance down. On the other side of this giant box he has carefully concealed a Blu-ray disc player.
Yeah, because the TV isn't expensive enough? Well, this man is having shoulder surgery tomorrow. I was all prepared to be Nurse Nightingale. Maybe even the Naughty Nurse later. Now it is FULL ON Nurse Ratched. Hey! Maybe we could download that movie on our new Internet-capable TV and he can watch all 46" diagonally measured inches of it while I stand just out of reach, dangling his bottle of painkillers!