Several best-selling books over the years have discussed how men and women see the world differently. Some of the books even say that the genders speak completely different languages.

Apparently, that’s not good enough for my wife. She has started to take Spanish lessons.

Many people might see something like this as a good sign. Many people might encourage their spouse to broaden their knowledge.

Not me. I know she’s just going to use this against me.

Somehow, all of this has to stop. She’s already smarter than me. She’s more handy than me. Now she’s going to know more languages than me.

It’s just not fair.

When you consider that kids are learning Spanish much earlier than in previous generations, I’m worried that the two females in my house have conspired to develop a way to talk about me behind my back.

I am working at a tremendous disadvantage here. I only had three years of Spanish in high school, and I did the minimum amount of work possible to pass.

Beyond that, my entire knowledge of Spanish comes from watching soccer. So I’m in luck if I hear “tiros de asquina” or “pelota” or “GOOOOOOOOOOAAALLLLL!”

I’m totally lost otherwise.

All of this comes at a time of the year when I should be happiest – the beginning of TV season.

I should be spending this week worrying about Ted and Robin, Jim and Pam, Derek and Meredith.

This really is the greatest week of the whole year. The debut of a new television season makes everything in life a little bit better.

Things have worked out pretty good this year too. I don’t have that many “must see” shows, but they are spread out pretty evenly throughout the week.

By taking advantage of our Tivo, we have something to watch almost every night of the week because we never stay up late enough to watch 10 p.m. shows so we watch them the next night after we put Bridget to bed.

Except for Thursdays, I never have a night with more than one hour’s worth of shows I want to watch. And I can certainly just watch the recording of “Grey’s Anatomy” on Friday nights if I want to guarantee myself entertainment then.

But what would I talk about with my friends on Friday then? Sharing jokes about “My Name is Earl” and “The Office” can only go so far. And the enjoyment of TV shows only goes as far as your friends will let you.

A friend of mine is in terrible shape this season because the person she talked about her two favorite shows with has changed jobs. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do this season.

I don’t know if I could deal with that. I’m just worried about trying to understand enough Spanish so I can talk about “How I Met Your Mother” with Maria.

I know she watched “Sabado Gigante” the other night, so I have my work cut out for me.

Ay carumba!