Jack and television

I tried to limit the amount of television that Jack watched when he was a kid. I didn’t subscribe to cable, as we had acceptable reception for the original three major networks plus PBS, and my budget didn’t allow for unnecessary expenses. Sometimes, the reception was snowy and sometimes, the C5A's that were landing or taking off from Westover interfered, but we just didn’t watch much TV on those days.

                It was cheaper to purchase one video a month than to subscribe to a cable service, so we built up a substantial collection, first of tapes and later, of DVDs. I had a collection of Pokemon and other kid shows. I also had all of the science fiction and old television series that I liked, as well as a number of programs that I used in teaching. Still, I limited the amount of time that Jack could spend watching either TV or videos. Jack was not allowed to watch videos in my office, where I had a small TV with a built-in VCR, and he was only allowed to watch a total of one hour of TV or videos per day.

One day, as I cooked dinner, I suddenly realized that Jack was both quiet and no where to be seen. This was a bad sign and a dead giveaway that he was doing something that he wasn’t supposed to be doing. On that particular day, he had already used up his allotment of TV time watching Pokemon cartoons after school; he was supposed to be doing his homework before dinner. I pushed open the door to my office and caught him, sitting on the floor, watching a video on my little TV. I started to scold him, but suddenly realized that he was not watching Pokemon, he was watching one of my Monty Python videos (I had purchased the complete set at Costco). He was giggling madly at the “Ministry of Silly Walks.” He looked up at me. I watched the full range of emotions cross his face – beginning with mirth from watching the show, then worry as he noticed me and remembered that he was sneaking a forbidden treat, then back to glee as he realized that I wasn’t going to yell at him. My own face must have been a sight, beginning with irritation and ending in utter perplexity and my own amusement.

Unable to scold him, I shrugged and returned to the kitchen. My eight year old had discovered Monty Python and he LIKED it! There was hope for the next generation!