Peculiarly, more rules seem to be evolving in the house. Before I could even walk out the door the other day to run errands, with hand still on the front door knob, Cole plopped on the couch and flipped on the TV. The television is a controlled substance in my house and there are appropriate times of the week to watch it and we have chosen our favorite four programs to spend our time watching (bless TiVo). However, a sunny, spring, Saturday afternoon was not one of those chosen, appropriate times. I said to Cole, You should at least wait until I leave the house to sneak the TV on. But mom, he answered, I am going to watch Scrubs. Oh, ok, I said, You can watch two episodes, I'll be back in an hour.
Whaaaat? I thought about my reaction. TV is bad, but if the boy is going to watch Scrubs, then that is acceptable, as if it is some kind of educational program (it is really probably not even appropriate viewing for under the age of 16, then again, neither is the Daily Show nor Lost for that matter). But my acceptance made it seem like it was.
One evening after watching a TiVo'd episode of Scrubs, Cole announced that he wanted to be a doctor when he grows up. . . then he did a pratfall.
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