Pat sat on the edge of her chair while I watched Bill O'Reilly Thursday evening and, as quickly as Bill finished saying, "looking out for you," she  pounced.

"The TV is mine for the rest of the night," she said.

Not the TV in the bedroom, but the big screen in the living room. Something about a royal wedding deserving the same reverence as football.

I had nowhere to go, except the bedroom. So I sat in my easy chair and watched. 

Yea! The commentators were talking manly stuff like fashion, hairstyles and unmistakable love.

Made me sick. 

Everything was perfect. There was not a negative word. Made baseball and football commentators seem honest. At least they report strikes and pass interference.

The worst of it was when they started saying certain aspects of this wedding were better than Diana's wedding.

I remember that wedding. Diana's hair was perfect. Her ring was perfect. Her dress was perfect. She was perfect. She had the wedding of a lifetime.

Until last Friday. 

How soon they forget, even in England.

Reminds me of all the great NFL quarterbacks. They're great until the next one comes along.

Anyway, Pat announced she was going to stay up as long as it took to watch a wedding that was scheduled for 3 a.m. 

Whoa! Now that's dedication. I would never stay up that late for the Seahawks.

At  9:30, I'd had enough of this "don't offend the monarchy" commentary and slipped off to bed. Pat was still there in her chair.

I woke momentarily at 11 p.m. when the bed moved. Pat had shut off the big screen, turned on the TV in our room and gone to bed.

Pat's good at staying up late, even in bed, watching movies or a cupcake war. Staying awake for Kate would be a snap.

I woke up again about midnight, and Pat was fast asleep with more sugary commentary emanating from the TV. I thought about shutting it off, but I fell back to sleep faster than I could get out of bed.

Just before 3 a.m. I awoke again, and Kate was coming into the wedding scene in a Rolls Royce. Thinking I could score some serious points with my honey, I woke her.

"What?" Pat asked, trying to figure out where she was.

"Kate's arriving at the wedding."

Pat jumped up in bed excitedly.

Wouldn't you know it? Just then, the TV shut off automatically. 

Pat became frantic.

Just push the middle button (on the remote), I said.

"The 'select' button?"

Yes.

It didn't work. We got a bar across the bottom of the screen that said "connecting" and "could take up to five minutes."

Oh no! Panic! Kate was surely near the door at Westminster Abbey or inside.

Pat jumped out of bed, ran to the living room and turned on the big screen. Another "connecting" bar across the bottom and "could take up to 10 minutes."

This had never happened before, with either TV. I sort of felt sorry for Pat. She was starting to pull her hair out.

The bedroom TV finally came back on with the prince in place, and Kate halfway down the aisle. Pat was disappointed about the action she'd missed, but she was okay.

So was I. I really wanted to go back to sleep. So I went to the living room and kicked back in the easy chair. 

However, out of curiosity, I turned on the big screen. Then I watched the entire wedding.

The Brits do royalty really well. I particularly enjoyed the herald trumpets, the orchestra and the choir.

I watched until after the newlyweds arrived at Buckingham Palace. When it was announced that "the kiss" was still an hour away, I shut the big screen off and went back to sleep.

At 6:30, Pat walked into the living room. I asked if she'd been able to get any more sleep.

"Yeah," she said. "I couldn't stay awake. I fell asleep right after  Kate and William were at the altar and the priest started to speak. I never even heard him say husband and wife."

I didn't have the heart to say I'd seen the whole thing. But I did feel like throwing her, "You can watch the replays," refrain back at her.