Last night I sat down with my fourteen husbands to watch Sister Wives for the very first time. As much as I love reading in-depth Wikipedia articles about plural marriages, I never actually watched this reality show before. I prepared myself to be offended, outraged and horrified. Three emotions I always enjoy feeling while watching reality television and feeling superior to the stars of the show. There’s no other reason that Real Housewives of New Jersey gets recorded on my DVR every week.
But unfortunately Sister Wives failed to deliver. Which I took particularly hard because it involves sister wives married to Kody Brown, a man who resembles Billy Ray Cyrus’ long lost cousin. It’s ripe for drama and deceit and emotional outburts about ’90s orgies gone wrong.
Instead it felt like another humdrum “slice of life” reality show about a family just trying to make it through the day. Adults argue, adults make-up. Kids argue, kids make-up. It’s like a regular family dinner in my house. If everyone in my family snorted horse transquilizers and enjoyed civilized meal time conversation.
The major drama revolved around the children not being completely willing participants in a family nativity play. Color me bored. In a show about polygamy I expect, nay I demand, that the sister wives step up to the plate and deliver. I not only want more information on their individual sexual relationships with their husband, but I want them to put in weaves so I can watch them pull out each other’s weaves as they fight over who has to pleasure Kody that evening.
I want yelling and screaming and none of this calmly worded talking bullshit they gave us last night. And I want out-of-control kids. I want to see those children literally climbing on the walls.
That’s a show about polygamy worth watching. None of this “normal family” BS that I saw last night. Maybe Sister Wives will get more dramatic next week, but they would probably need to commit murder to make up for the lack of excitement in the season premiere.