By Donnie Wahlberg
How I lost my Monday nights — but not quite my manhood — to my wife’s favorite TV show. Don’t laugh, it could happen to you, too.
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This has to be some kind of karmic retribution.
A turning of the tables for all of those husbands out there who had to put up with their wives wanting to go see the New Kids on The Block reunion concerts. Sweet revenge for the nice-guy hubbies who had to put up with their wives talking about how hunky Jordan was, cute Joey still is or how much of a “bad boy” Donnie was, during his Public Enemy T-shirt-wearing rebellious phase.
Payback, for all those men who spent their paychecks on surprise New Kids concert tickets for their spouses. The same guys who had to then shell out another $30 for a Jonathan T-shirt, or even more (than I care to mention) for a meet and greet photo op with the band.
More likely, it’s a quarter century worth of “what comes around goes around.” You know, for all those late-1980s teenage boys who had to compete with my band for the affections of their AquaNet-spraying, high-hair wearing, 16 Magazine-reading, young teenage girlfriends.
What other explanation could there be, that could make sense of the fact that …
I am addicted to the “The Bachelor”!!!
There, I said it. OK?
The freaking Bachelor.
It’s karma, isn’t it?
What other explanation can there be for the fact that I know all these Bachelor guys on a first-name and character-description basis, the same way that so many husbands had to get to know Donnie, Jordan, Danny, Jon and Joe?