Tamara Upish looked out the dirty front window of her house and watched her neighbor, Lawrence, drive his ride-on lawn mower down the sidewalk - again. Tamara didn't know much about the old guy except that he was a very rich obsessive-compulsive who had spent his fortune on lawn equipment. The patch of grass in front of his house was about the size of a bathtub, yet somehow he managed to spend every day tending it with his plethora of gardening supplies, only taking breaks to get on his ride-on mower and take a trip around the block. He always asked every neighbor, regardless of the height of their grass, if they would like their lawn mowed. She sighed and let the rough artichoke-green curtain fall back into place in front of the window. Sitting down on the matching couch, Tamara looked at her four year old son, Jake, who was still asleep on the floor. She turned on the TV, planning to watch for a few minutes before work.
        Half an hour later, Jake started yanking on Tamara's shorts.
         "Mommmmmmy! Lawrence is knocking on the door! And I'm hungry!" Tamara was dragged out of her world of "Beverly Hills 90210" altogether too quickly. "Damn neighbors..." she muttered, not very loud, but she figured Jake heard her anyway. She slowly rolled off the couch, walked across the dirty carpet, and opened the door. Lawrence, pieces of grass poking out from underneath his fingernails, was much too cheerful for 7:30 AM.
         "Why, hello, Ms. Upish. Figured you would be up! Sam here -" he gestured towards the ride-on mower "and I thought maybe you needed your lawn mowed this morning."
         "Sure, sure, Lawrence. Hello Sam." she stopped herself talking to the lawn mower a little too late. "Go ahead." she finished, a little annoyed. This was something new, and she suspected her neighbor's harmless little obsession was taking on a new twist. Still, she refused to care about him, or anything else for that matter. As long as she could watch TV, she was happy. Tamara had just settled back down doing just that before Jake reminded her about breakfast. Groaning, she made her way to the kitchen, where last night's dishes, coated in rock-hard macaroni and cheese, still sat. After finding a clean bowl, cereal, milk, and an almost-clean spoon, she handed the sugary mush to Jake and sat back down. Soon, she would have to go to work and drop Jake off at his day care. Calling in sick was not an option, she thought bitterly. Her manager probably didn't know what sick was.
         Tamara worked at a meat processing plant. Cutting, cleaning, and packaging meat was a disgusting job, but she was unwilling to find some other work. It paid just enough, and she was afraid a new job would have longer hours and take up more time - time that could be spent in a vegetative state in front of the television. It was very relaxing to her, better an alcohol and cheaper than drugs. Besides, what else was there to do in the depressing, rainy town where she lived? Grow moss?
         Tamara finally got up, dressed herself, dressed Jake, and went out to the car. She left all the televisions on, except for the one in the living room, in a small attempt to lower her electricity bill. They drove to Jake's daycare; a grungy, but cheap, place called "Valley Daycare". Adequately named, Tamara thought, since the place was run by a group of gum-smacking, hair-tossing, barely out of high school valley girls. Jake hated it, and she knew it, but she couldn't see why. They had a TV in there, didn't they? Jake didn't play as much as the average kid, but still once in a while he would want to go to the park or something. Television was much safer, Tamara reasoned. Who knew what could happen to a little boy at the park? She let Jake out of the car and drove on, watching him battle with the huge glass doors in the rearview mirror.
         When she got to work, Tamara stopped wondering about her unusual son. She was having other problems. There was one man at work who seemed insistent on asking her out. His name was Mark, and he had just started working there. He didn't seem to like it very much, always bothering the managers and supervisors about getting better working conditions. Tamara figured he would get fired pretty soon. He came up with a new date every day; rock climbing, scuba diving, biking, swimming, or something equally uncomfortable-sounding. When she got in that day, she found a note in her locker. "How about going parachuting? -Mark, 616-2933" it read. Tamara shook her head and made a mental note to reprimand him later. He didn't appear to be at work that day, but Tamara wanted nothing to do with men after Jake's father left her pregnant, homeless, and bald. But she didn't want to think about that now.
         The workday passed smoothly, with only a couple minor mechanical incidents. She was in the department that "gutted" the cows that day, her least favorite job. Her co-workers were all either lazy, illiterate, non-English speaking, or simply unintelligent and probably couldn't get a job anywhere else. Tamara was only one of these things: lazy. She admitted it freely to herself. Lazy and passive. Why did it matter, anyway? She didn't care if her neighbor was crazy, or if the Chinese woman just lost two fingers to a chopping knife, or if Jake was - well, whatever Jake was.
         At the end of the day, Tamara was very tired and grumpy. She got the last of the crusted blood off her hands and was cheered by the thought that in just a few minutes, she would be watching TV again.
         Jake was waiting for her in front of the building when she came. He jumped in the car without saying anything and was pretty much silent all the way home. Unusual for kids his age, Tamara thought. On TV they were all lively and talkative.
         At home, Tamara kicked off her shoes and sat down on the couch like usual. She stared at the blank screen of the television for a few seconds before turning it on. A couple hours later, during a commercial break in the game show she had been watching, she realized she was hungry and picked up the phone.
         "Hello? I'd like to order a nine-inch pepperoni pizza with extra che..." She broke off. There was someone looking at her through the window. It was dark already and the curtain had not shut all the way. The person was watching her.
         "What the hell!" She exclaimed loudly and slammed down the phone. Jake came running in from his room with an action figure clutched in both hands.
         "What's the matter, mommy? Did the guy get the answer wrong?" At that point the door opened and a man walked in, and the strange odor of cat food wafted into the room so quickly Tamara and Jake probably smelled him at the same moment they saw him. In the darkened room, it was hard to get a good look at him. Was he trying to be an Elvis impersonator or a pirate? His hair was slicked back Elvis-style, and he had a leather patch over one eye. His good eye was glaring at her threateningly. Tamara picked up the phone again to call 911, but the man rushed over and took it from her. The obtrusive smell was stronger now that he was right in her face, and it made Tamara gag. She could also make out prunes on his breath and he had so much hairspray in his hair it almost overpowered the cat food stench.
         "What... do you want?" she managed to get out. He sighed, suddenly not as menacing, and sat down on the couch. Jake ran over to Tamara and sat on her lap. She pushed him off.
         "Arrrrrrrrr..." the man growled, but didn't say anything else. He got up and went into the kitchen.
         "Come on, Jake." Tamara grabbed his hand and ran towards the door. Jake stopped.
         "Mommy, the man is nice. I wanna watch TV with you." Again, Tamara was flabbergasted. She would have liked to watch television as well, but this man seemed a little dangerous.
         "No, Jake! Don't be stupid. He probably wants to eat us or something." She ran out the door with her son in tow. The only person outside was Lawrence, hard at work in his garden with a flashlight. She wondered for a brief moment if he ever went inside. "Lawrence!" She yelled as she ran across the street. "There's a guy in my kitchen and..."
           "Hey! Leave me alone! I'm trying to pull weeds!" This was not the friendly old man Tamara usually tried to humor.
         "But he smells like cat food!" He ignored her completely. Tamara sighed and glanced up and down the street. She regretted avoiding all her neighbors now. Just then, she heard cowboy boots walking across the asphalt behind her, and a growl that sounded a lot like a pirate's. It was the man who had been in her kitchen. He now was carrying grocery bags filled with things she recognized from her house in his right hand, and an old sword in his left hand.
         "Arrrrrrrrrrrrr. I'm not done yet. Get back in the house." He growled, indicating the house with his sword. Tamara sighed. With one last glance at the back of her uncooperative neighbor, she walked with Jake back into her house. The man pulled a rope from out of one of the bags. He grabbed a chair from the dining room table, dumped off the pile of dirty take-out boxes and unread magazines, and gestured for her to sit down. He tossed her the rope.
         "Tie yourself up."
         "Umm, ex-excuse me?" Tamara stammered.
         "Oh." A light seemed to go on in the head of the smelly man in Tamara's kitchen. He proceeded to tie her legs and arms to the chair. As he did this, he talked to Jake, and did his pirate growl a lot.
         "Okay, kid. I'm just going to borrow from stuff from your mom. You can sit and watch TV, and when I'm done and I leave, you can untie her. She'll just be in the closet here." He added, pushing the chair into the broom closet and shutting the door. Jake stayed in front of the TV, content with the show. Tamara couldn't believe it. Where did this guy come from, and did he really believe Jake would stay in front of the television while he took all the valuables from her house? Tamara could just barely hear the game show host giving a question in the living room, and her captor walking around the house and growling. She cursed to herself. Why wasn't Jake calling the police, or running away, or something? How long would it take for this guy to get what he wanted and leave? At one point, she thought she heard the door slam, but it might have been the television. At any rate, at least two hours had gone by and the guy had to be done by now. Why wasn't Jake coming? Then it hit her - of course. That guy must have taken Jake with him. Tamara started sobbing and wallowed in self pity for a long time. She was so unlucky to have such a stupid kid. But stupid or not, she loved him and she wished she hadn't ignored him for the majority of their life together. It was all her fault, no, it was all her ex's fault. Her parents had raised her badly, and it was all their fault. It was all God's fault. When she got done blaming people, she resigned herself to the fact that she would stay tied up there until someone became curious enough to come look for her. Who knew when that might be? She thought of all the people she knew and shook her head. They wouldn't notice if she disappeared for a couple weeks. Hell, a couple years wouldn't make a difference to them. More tears fell down her face. A little later, Tamara fell asleep.

         Jake woke up to a loud crash in the laundry room, as Tamara tried to stand up before she remembered she was still tied to the chair. He rubbed his eyes, switched off the TV, and toddled over to investigate.

         When Tamara had been untied and Jake calmed down, they took an inventory of the things missing from the house. The kitchen, bedroom, laundry room, and bathroom televisions were gone, as well as some of Tamara's mother's silver, Tamara's engagement ring that she had stuck in the bottom of her underwear drawer, and Jake's plastic guitar. Tamara was surprised at how little the absence of her precious televisions upset her. They both sat down at the kitchen table. Tamara put her head in her hands and sighed deeply.
         "Jake, let's try to figure out what happened last night, ok?"
         "Mommy, are you mad at me?" Tamara looked in his eyes. Mad? Well, maybe not as much as she had thought. She shook her head.
         "Just... what happened? What did that guy do to you?"
         "Nothing. He was really nice, mommy. He said that all I had to do was watch TV for a while, and then untie you when he left. I didn't see when he left. It was so much fun! I just got to watch TV as long as I wanted, without anyone telling me to go to bed! But I think I fell asleep anyway. I woke up when you...um...went boom."
         "Yeah, yeah, I know." Tamara rubbed a bruise on her leg. There was a long silence between mother and son. Tamara was deep in thought. Would she have been in the laundry room all night if Jake hadn't been watching television? Was television more important to him than she was?
         "Honey, what if we just... no. I couldn't do that." She sighed again.
         "What, mommy?" Jake crawled onto her lap and wiped a tear off her face.
         "Jake, do you like to watch TV?" Tamara was never more shocked then when she saw his head shake.
         "Well, what would we do if we didn't watch TV?" He paused. "You like it, don't you?" Tamara laughed, and thought of all the things they could do if they didn't spend so much time watching television. Now that she thought about it, she hated it. It was the habit she loved. What if it just wasn't there? She would start off by getting a new job, that was for sure. Then she would spend more time with Jake. She picked him up and gave him a hug.
         "Thank you!" she exclaimed. She held him for a while, then put him down. "Let's get rid of this thing." She said, walking towards the last remaining television. Together, they unplugged it and put it in the back of Tamara's car. As they were getting ready to go to the dump, Tamara found something at the bottom of her purse. It was Mark's note. She called him, found out that he had been fired, and made a date to go job hunting with him the next day.
         Jake and Tamara talked all the way to the dump, the first time they had talked for as long as Tamara could remember. Suddenly, she was happier than she could ever remember being.
         They left the television on top of a pile of old refrigerators, microwaves, and dryers. It looked kind of funny up there, practically new, although she saw several others scattered around that looked suspiciously like the one the burglar had stolen the night before. Tamara wondered...