I don't do exceptionally well with change. In fact, I really hate when my routine is interrupted or replaced by something new.

Call me a creature of habit but sometimes it's nice to have things stay the same way you left them. That's why I am so angry about a recent change that occurred in my house.

Like most of you, I work hard during the day and am eager to get home so I can take a breather. Relaxing for me involves watching television and controlling the "power," as we call it, that turns the stations and ultimately controls our evening destiny.

Last week, however, my remote was replaced with an imposter. Sure, it was still from our cable provider, but it felt different. It was sleek, slim and sexy, and the contours fit the palm of my hand the same way the TV Guide wraps around my fingers.

The problem, though, was that it now "talked" to another cable box - one that was foreign to me and unfamiliar to my eyes.

"What's up with the television?" I asked, knowing that this could only be the work of a remote-control-wannabe-master like my wife.

"It's the newest thing. It's called DVR. It combines the cable box with a digital recorder so that we can record all of our favorite shows." She never missed a beat or cracked a smile, but she knew her actions had gotten to me.

"Isn't that what we have a DVD player for and a VCR?" Silly me, I actually thought that purchasing these items and spending countless hours hooking them up meant something.

"Yep. But look. We don't have them anymore. They're gone." Just like my hopes of getting back my old cable box and the ability to know what I am doing when it comes to channel surfing.

Why did it have to be this way? Was the old method really that bad?

I decided that I would be grown-up about it and give this new remote a chance to warm its way into my heart, which beat quicker feeling the hard outer shell. It was sterile to me.

The buttons looked the same and, generally, all of the functions acted like the old remote. But then my wife had to interject and show me all of the updates and gadgets that make this thing greater than the last episode of "M*A*S*H" or "Seinfeld."

For the next 10 minutes, I gained a quick tutorial on recording, fast forwarding, rewinding, scheduling a recording, deleting a recording and doing everything but watching television. By the end of the session, I knew less than when I started and had to be re-trained.

And then it happened.

She took the remote from my hand and started working the thing like an old pro. I am certain this was a result of years of sneaking around while I was gone.

For the next hour, I'm not sure what we watched, but I know that we covered about 65 channels, rewinding and fast forwarding and deleting shows faster than contestants get voted of off "Survivor." By the end of the hour, I wasn't sure of what time it was, let alone what show was on next.

"I'm going to bed. See you in a little bit," I said, and crawled up into bed. There, I found the remote to our old television and coddled it, remembering days gone by while I clicked through stations. Sometimes, it's good to go back to the old things we know.