So, my roommate, Kyle, has a serious addiction—no, it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s worse. Kyle is hooked on terrible reality TV. I’m talking about the kind of shows where people scream at each other over who stole whose bronzer, or spend weeks on an island pretending they’re in love for a cash prize. And he binge-watches them ALL. THE. TIME.

Now, I don’t mind a little trash TV here and there, but Kyle? He’s glued to it. Every evening, he takes control of the TV like it’s his personal viewing throne. I tried to talk to him about maybe switching it up once in a while—maybe we could watch something that doesn't make me lose faith in humanity? But Kyle’s like, “Nah, bro, this is gold. You just don’t get it.”

It got worse. He’s now in the middle of a 48-hour marathon of the latest “Housewives of Someplace I’ve Never Heard Of” season, and I hit my breaking point. So, here’s what I did: I hid the TV remote. Yep, I tucked it in a place he’ll never find. Figured we could both use a little detox from people throwing wine glasses at each other.

Now, Kyle’s wandering around the house like a lost puppy, complaining about how he can’t watch his shows and that I’m being “controlling” and “ruining his chill time.” Meanwhile, I’m just enjoying the sweet, sweet sound of silence.

So, AITA for hiding the remote and temporarily putting an end to the reality TV madness?