I Guess It's All About Me...Again.

Know who might be petty and judgmental? Me.

I began to question this when I grew introspective after noticing that my Jon and Kate Plus 8 television viewing time was waning. (Know who is obsessively introspective? Me.) (Know who makes global assumptions about her personality based solely on her reaction to reality television? Again, me.)

I used to enjoy the show. The episode when Kate revealed her post-sextuplet belly, reminiscent of layer upon layer of loosely packed, pale pink ground beef? I was there. The episode when they tried to camp out in the backyard with all eight children—and it poured? I was there. The episode when Kate screamed across Toys R Us for Jon to quit playing with the toys, grow up, and help her parent their brood? I was there.

But lately I’ve lost interest.

The new episode teasers don’t even tempt me.

I’ve seen their show available in a time slot in which I am available, and I’ve scrolled right past.

Once, I was mistaken about the day that Burn Notice was on and rejected Jon and Kate to reread a book I’d finished earlier in the week.

I couldn’t help but wonder: Jon and Kate, what happened to us?

That’s when I knew. They lost me when they started bleaching their teeth, getting hair plugs, hiring nannies, taking all expense paid trips to Maui, and considered buying a home on an island inhabited by wild horses.

Would I ever consider doing those things? Sure. (Minus the hair plugs.) But when my reality television stars started living the American Dream, I lost interest. I guess I prefer Jon and Kate to be frazzled and harried, not calm and independently wealthy.

Does this make me petty and judgmental? Maybe.

But it may also be that the American Dream is sort of …well…boring.

I think I’ll tune in again when all of those kids hit their teen years. Five hormonal, adolescent girls living in a house with a menopausal, obsessive-compulsive mother? Now THAT? Is good television.