... they might have conversations like these:

I walk into the family room, where there are people wearing what looks like 18th-century garb on my television set and a deeply portentous narrator's voice filling my entertainment space. Great. Educational crap.

Me, exasperated: What are we watching?
Him: "Nova"!
Me, amused: I'm sorry, "Nova"? With dramatization? Since when does your beloved "Nova" offer dramatization?

Minutes go by, although let's face it, it could have been just seconds ...

Me: Why are we still watching this? I'm in no mood to learn anything. Can you turn on "Greek" instead?
Him: But this is really exciting stuff. It's leading up to how they figured out E= mc2!
Me: What is that anyway?
Him: It's like the greatest equation of all time!
Me: Yeah, but what is it?
Him: It's the key to ...
Me: No, what does it stand for?
Him: Energy equals Mass times the Speed of Light squared.
Me: But that doesn't make any sense.
Him: I know! That's what is so incredible about it. Think about it: energy, mass and speed of light in the same equation!
Me: No, I mean that "C" would stand for "speed of light." That doesn't make sense.
Him: No, but: Energy is related to mass times the speed of light squared! It's amazing. Doesn't that just blow your mind?
Me: What blows my mind is that they decided that "C" stood for the "speed of light," when there is clearly no C in the phrase. And also, that we're watching this instead of "Greek."

So I was making out my annual grid of fall television shows -- new ones worth watching, days they're on, times they air, returning shows, conflicts in recording, etc. You know, like everybody does this time of year. (What? You don't? Hmmm.) It's sort of my equivalent of fantasy football or baseball, except my opponents are the networks and my DVR. Oh, and time, which, as always, is a worthy and formidable foe in my quest to conquer all my favorite shows in a single week while making sure my children are well-fed and clean. They generally are.

Anyway, I finished my grid, looked up from my work -- a timeline of teenage romps, medical dramas, sci-fi nutjobs and sitcoms about friends who don't have children and spend way too much time in each other's apartments to be platonic -- and gave Randy the news.

"It's looking pretty bad," I told him.
Him: "Yeah?"
Me: "Yep."
Him: "What's the diagnosis?"
Me: "That Monday night at 8 p.m. is where our television dreams go to die. We have Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles, Dancing with the Stars ..."
Him: "Ugh."
Me: "Anyway ... Dancing with the Stars, Big Bang Theory, Chuck ...
Him: "Uh-oh."
Me: "... and Gossip Girl."
Him: [sarcastic gasp of tragedy] "Oh no! Not Gossip Girl! Anything but Gossip Girl! What are we going to do?"
Me: [ignoring lack of appreciation for my pretty, pretty show] "Well, I think it's clear what we have to do. I can dump Dancing with the Stars, I guess ..."
Him: "Please?"
Me: "... but unless two of the other four are available online -- and here I have to exclude Gossip Girl, because you know I love it, xoxo, and I like my teen dramas in full screen, in all their backstabbing glory, as they were meant to be seen -- we're going to need another DVR. What do you say?"
Him: [with a promising note in his voice] "Well, I think we could manage that."
Me: "Yeah?"
Him: "Sure. Just take MJ out of preschool and we'll use part of her tuition to pay for another DVR so we can keep watching all of our shows."
Me: "Awesome. I love it. I'm calling Time Warner Cable tomorrow!"

Now, ymou may have heard that I'm not always the most discerning television viewer. I watch some of the really great shows, but I also watch some pretty crappy, 7th-Heaven-y stuff about pregnant teenagers who are members of their high school bands. (Seriously. "The Secret Life of the American Teenager" has to be the worst show on TV, and I swore I would erase it from my DVR recordings as soon as she told her parents that she was pregnant ... and yet ... I have not. I kind of hate myself for it.)

I will seriously watch almost anything.

But I've never really given in to "American Idol," not the way so many others have. We watched the year of Clay Aiken and Ruben Studdard and, afterward, the husband told me I could never watch it again. And do you want to know why?* Here's why: I watched the last 10 minutes of "Canadian Idol" at the in-laws (that's right, I said CanadianIdol) and found myself upset that a 17-year-old with floppy black hair named Mookie got kicked off the show. "How," I kept repeating, over and over again, "do you kick a guy named Mookie off?" Then I became concerned, briefly -- but enough to spend a few minutes thinking about it -- that he had smashed his guitar on stage after his farewell song, and what a silly thing that was to do when you weren't even the runner-up on Idol. I mean, are you really guaranteed enough post-Idol money to buy yourself a new one if you finish below four or five other people? Television is like crack for my free time; I swear I can get obsessed with any show if you give me a chance.

It's quite sad, really. So I guess it's good we don't get CTV down in the south.

(*OK, his reason for why I couldn't watch it again WAS, in fact, Clay Aiken.)

We now interrupt your workday to bring you this important, vitally important, piece of news.

To the Bat Phone!

Ring!

Him: Hellooo?

Me: Guess what?

Him: What?

Me: Guess who's going to be on "Rescue Me"?

Him: Who?

Me: No, guess!

Him: Who?

Me: Guess! You'll never guess!

Him: Probably not. Just tell me.

Me: Michael J. Fox!

Him: Wow. That is exciting.

Me: [squeal] I know!

Him: When?

Me: Dunno. Next season, I guess.

Him: Cool. Thanks for letting me know.

Me: Yeah. No problem. I'm on the case.

Him: Yes. I can't imagine going through the whole day without that information.

Me: Exactly.

Him: What else is going on?

Me: Um ... yeah. That's pretty much it.

Him: OK. Working now.

Me: Yeah, OK. Bye.

"Beth, did your daughter have jammies and a diaper on when you put her in bed?" Randy is calling to me downstairs, from upstairs, where he is standing in puddles of pee in MJ's room.

"Yes," I blurt out, with dread.

"Well," he says, "she doesn't now."

And he wonders why I want to watch "The Secret Life of the American Teenager," a show we had seen preview for a couple nights ago. I need a release from toddlerhood. Something more grown-up. Something more like teenagerhood. (Adulthood would just be going too far.)

"Is it so wrong that I want to watch a show with Molly Ringwald in it?" I had asked Randy, after having him tell me -- upon seeing my eyes grow big as saucers at the prospect of a new show -- that we were not adding it to the DVR.

"No more shows about teenagers!" he insisted, pulling the remote closer toward him, as if protecting the TV -- his baby -- from my insanity. "No more! I'm cutting you off. You have a problem."

OK, I don't have a problem. This is the same phrase I hear about my "alleged" chewing gum addiction ...



... and the fact that I am 75 percent combustible from 8 a.m. to 10 a.m. (actual husband quote: "Did you know that your coffee creamer is flammable?"):



The problem is with producers of shows like "Gossip Girl" and "Greek" (which I may or may not have been watching at the time the preview came on) who keep making immensely entertaining shows that star and revolve around teenagers and make me long for a return of the fabulously kvetching "Party of Five." I mean, I love "Grey's Anatomy," but I'll take the bratty, spoiled chicks on "Gossip Girl" over real-life brat Katherine Heigl any day of the week. Granted, I haven't seen "Secret Life" yet (it premieres July 1), but I'm more than willing to give it a spin.

And, well ... if you really want to blame someone for my love of teenager shows, blame MJ -- not for the previously mentioned freestyle bedtime peeing, but because I once had nothing else to do while holding her 3-month-old self and waiting for her to fall asleep, so during the spring and summer of 2005 I watched every single rerun of this stupid show, from pilot to finale, on TBS. And oh, how I grew to love that stupid show, and all of its stupidness.

Back to the other night:

"We're watching it," I told Randy, with great determination, standing up for oppressed housewives everywhere who secretly worship teenage television. Yep, this must be how late nineteenth century women in the western United States felt after they first won suffrage. (See Pearl? I'm trying to raise my blog reading level.) We've come a long way, baby.

"Do we have to?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "We must. It's highly relative. One day we will have teenagers, and I think it's important we keep up with trends in the industry."

"Well," he allowed, "it's true. We'll have two of them, in fact, for something like seven years."

"Exactly," I said. "And ... I mean, dude: Molly Ringwald!"

Yesterday we did TV dads, so to keep things equal, today we're doing TV moms. I mean, I don't want Florence Henderson knocking on my door, wondering where the respect is. Know what I mean?

Without further adieu (because I sense the Bunker girls' first real fight brewing -- over a little toy with a bell on it), here's this week's question:

Which TV mom would you most like to be? And which one are you most like (if they aren't the same people ...)?

Barb: Please don't laugh, but I have always admired June Cleaver (Barbara Billingsley) on "Leave it to Beaver." I would love to be the mom who makes a large, sit down breakfast daily while wearing a perfectly pressed dress and matching accessories. She was always cheerful, although I often wondered if she was sneaking a little from Ward's mini bar. The woman could do it all, even speak jive (Google Airplane!). Unfortunately, I am most like Debra Barone (Patricia Heaton) on "Everybody Loves Raymond." Like Debra, I cannot cook, which explains why the girls have cereal every morning. I also have rambunctious children and a sports-nut husband, who make me lose it every now and then. The only piece that my life does not emulate is the parents across the street. Although, my mother keeps threatening to buy a little condo near her grandchildren. Please help me!

{ed note: By the way, I did Google BB, and I discovered that the woman is still jive-talkin' at 92 years old! Wow. B-squared also shares my birthday, so she must be totally cool.}

Janice:OK this one is hard. Sadly I watch too much Law and Order/CSI/etc. and the mothers on these shows are not ones I want to be. So I thought further..... and did some research.....

Am I Lois from Malcolm in the Middle? "Lois, played by Jane Kaczmarek, is described as a hard-nosed, manipulative and slightly crazy mother and something of an embarrassment to her five kids and devoted husband, Hal." Well, the slightly crazy fits. I do have a devoted husband, but I am afraid that I do embarrass him by talking to everyone in Target. So I guess it is a good thing that I only have one kid as I would most certainly morph into Lois with 5 kids!

Am I Debra from Everybody Loves Raymond? "As a housewife, Debra is frequently stressed out because she not only has to deal with all the housework and her three rambunctious children (without much assistance from Ray), but also Ray's obnoxious, intrusive family members, whom she often complains about. Debra tends to hold back her feelings and usually only after Ray does something she lets loose by having tantrums and completely losing control of herself." Hmmmmmm..... I am frequently stressed out and I did throw a Kleenex box once in a tantrum...... not my finest hour.

Am I Lorelai Gilmore from the Gilmore Girls? "Lorelai is a highly talkative, free-spirited woman, a child of the eighties and part of the MTV generation. Lorelai is a self-proclaimed caffeine addict and possesses no cooking skills; when not eating leftover takeout or junk food, she frequents Luke's diner. Lorelai is innately humorous and has a witty remark for every situation, often with a pop culture reference." Hmmmmmm..... I am highly talkative, free-sprited (I want to think so), caffeine addict, but I do love to cook.......

Can I be a mix up of all three? I want to have the close, wonderful, best friend relationship with my daughter like Lorelai, I do want the same plastic surgeon that Debra has and I do want to be able to voice my opinion as well as Lois.

Thanks to Wiki for my definitions. {Wiki: "You're welcome, Janice. Come back and see us anytime."}

Becky: Ok, this is one of those inkblot questions, right? I hope I'm not like the moms on the shows I watch. "Sex and the City" (yes, I usually just watch TV when it's out on DVD). Miranda? Nope. Then there's "Absolutely Fabulous"--Edina? No thanks, sweetie dahling. "Lost" -- Claire? Hmmm, maybe I can take the best points of all these moms? Yeah, I could do that, plus mix in a little Diane Keaton from "Something's Gotta Give."

Lisa: The TV mom I would most like to be is Lorelai Gilmore: stylish, independent and able to eat massive quantities of junk food with no consequences. Plus, she raised an ultra-brilliant child who swung a free ride to an Ivy - college is really, really expensive.

As for who I am actually like, I think I'm most like Marge Simpson, with a side order of Prof. Frink. Marge is resourceful, resilient and constantly reinvents herself - I've had eight jobs and moved nine times since grad school. Marge also subscribes to Fretful Mother Magazine - your source for the frightening descriptions of the latest child-maiming products. (In the non-cartoon world, we have Parents magazine to get that job done.)


Beth: Well, let's see. This is pretty difficult. I wish I would think more about these questions before I ask them. If I could be any TV mom, I'd definitely pick Tami Taylor from "Friday Night Lights." Remember Connie Britton from "Spin City"? Who would have thunk that she could portray the woman she plays on FNL: Sassy, confident-but-vulnerable, patient enough to join a book club with wives of high school football booster club members just to support her husband, successfully back in the workplace after raising her oldest daughter, tough when she needs to be, tender when she needs to be. I just love her character. I don't think I've ever heard her nag. I wouldn't even mind living in small-town west Texas (I think it's west Texas). I kind of like Texas. On the other hand, I've never seen a Target on the show, so I probably wouldn't survive long.

But I'm probably mostly a mix of Debra Barone and Edith Bunker. Let's face it: Sometimes I'm a little loopy and whiny like Edith, and Debra never has her house perfectly clean (though it still looks cleaner than mine does) and has a bit of trouble in the kitchen. At the same time, she doesn't let Ray by with much ... and I think unfortunately I'm the quintessential nag.

That being said, later in life, I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up like this woman ...

... (that's Grandma from "Friday Night Lights") wandering around accusing people of eating all her SnackWells and polishing off her pudding. "You know I like to have a little puddin' before bedtime. It settles my stomach."

Though I doubt I'll take the time to put my hair in curlers.

Next week here at the Bunker, it's daddy time -- a whole five-to-seven days of love for the dudes in honor of Father's Day. To prepare, this week's 13 is an ode to a few TV dads I love. (Notice I didn't say "good" dads, necessarily ... just ones I really enjoy watching ... or once did, but now do only in reruns on TBS.

1. Michael Bluth/Jason Bateman: Jason Bateman is my celebrity boyfriend. Let's recount a bit of his TV career, which I have seen in its entirety: "Little House on the Prairie", "Silver Spoons" (oh, Derek, you were the bad boy everyone loved), "It's Your Move" (so sadly shortlived), "Valerie" and "Arrested Development." What have you ever seen this guy in that wasn't funny? (OK, maybe not "Little House.") And although he appears here for "Arrested Development" (by the way, if you haven't heard, there's a movie in the works), my all-time favorite Bateman role is as The Ocho announcer Pepper Brooks in Dodgeball. He has unmatched hair in that film. Unmatched!

2. Benjamin Linus/Michael Emerson: If this guy isn't one of the best actors on TV, I don't know who is. Typical responses in the Bunker household during any one episode of "Lost" include:

"I hate him."
"Dude, that guy? Is seriously creepy."
"Wait a minute, did he just do something nice?"
"Oh, I can't stand him."
"Is it wrong that I'm starting to love him a little bit?"

He may not be the best father on TV, but he certainly is the most complicated.

3. Jin Kwon/Daniel Dae Kim: [sigh] I don't even know where to begin. I'm still not over the fact that JJ Abrams and crew made Sun watch the father of her unborn child die on the ship. I mean, I knew he didn't live, but I didn't know they'd make her watch. The good news: I'm loving her new kick-ass attitude in the flash-forwards.

4. Frank Barone/Peter Boyle: Peter Boyle rocks. He was great as Raymond's cantankerous dad on "Everybody Loves Raymond," but he was also classic as dad to Bill Pullman (and Peter Gallagher) in While You Were Sleeping, which I still watch when I need to feel happy. (As does, I might add, this person, who I didn't mean to give a shout-out to again this week, but it might just be my new thing to do.)

5. Heathcliff Huxtable/Bill Cosby: Yes, still. I mean, really ... is any TV dads list complete without the guy? Even now, if this show comes on while I'm puttering about the house, it will totally suck me in. Also? There's a new generation of Cosby lovers in MotherBunkerland. MJ loves her some "Little Bill." (And so do I.)

6. Brian Darling/Glenn Fitzgerald: Are you watching "Dirty Sexy Money?" We love and miss this show and can't wait for it to come back on ... and for me, it's because of this guy. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Peter Krause, but whenever you have a morally corrupt Episcopal reverend who hates his half-brother, fathers a child out of wedlock and then tells his wife that the kid is an orphan who can't speak English ... you've got a great TV dad, don't you? Seriously, I love how the show made Brian despicable and then lovable as he worked out what it means to be a father, and to love a son. Not perfect, but definitely interesting.

7. Howard Cunningham/Tom Bosley: Mr. C love! How can you not adore a guy who rocks the leisure sweater that well?



8. Stephen Colbert/Stephen Colbert: What? He's a dad. And he's on TV. And he's one of the funniest people on TV. And I have a crush on him. Seriously, you just know the man is a good dad -- he teaches Sunday School, for Heaven's sake! (The real Stephen Colbert, that is, not the fake one.) Plus, he attended at least one of my alma maters ... and is originally from that "other" Carolina to the south of me. So it's almost like we're best friends.



9. Karl "Helo" Agathon/Tahmoh Penikett: What a beautiful, beautiful man this "Battlestar Gallactica" dude is. As if that weren't enough, he spans the human-Cylon divide by having a baby with one of the "skin jobs." He's so open-minded. And pretty. I feel it's no coincidence that he's from Yukon. (Son of former Yukon premier Anthony David John Penikett, as a matter of fact.) You know how I feel about the Canadians. (Or do you? No? Well, let's just say that if Michael J. Fox were a TV dad, he'd be the only one on this list.)



10. Rufus Humphrey/Matthew Settle: OK, so there's no way a dad as kind as this dude fathered a self-righteous smartass like Dan Humphrey -- he of "Gossip Girl" fame. And he is kind of lame in that "I want to be your friend, not your father," kind of way, and in the "I'm still holding on to my rock-star youth, which is why I'm wearing this necklace" kind of way. But like Tahmoh, he sure is pretty.



11. Howard Newly/Kevin Dunn: He's a darkhorse, I'll admit, but the dad from "Samantha Who?" made this list because of this line from one of last week's episodes:

"I spend a lot of time not thinking about my emotions. It's hard work, but it pays off."

OK, it was funnier when I heard it on TV. Even the fancy blockquote doesn't do it justice.



12. Frank Costanza/Arthur Spooner/Jerry Stiller: Obviously.



13. Eric Taylor/Kyle Chandler: The total TV father package: Kind heart, lots o' passion, strong morals, loves football, great hair -- and how awesome is it that the writers made the new baby a girl, too, instead of going for the easy "football-coach-finally-has-a-son" bit. I'm telling you, people, you cannot go wrong with this guy. He'll break your heart, in a good way.




PS, here's a bonus bit on TV dad's salaries I've found. Maybe you've seen it.

Generally speaking, I've never been a fan of reality shows, not even the all-encompassing "American Idol." But I love "Dancing with the Stars." There's something about dancing that brings everyone down to the same level, so I was "geeked," as my friend Julie would say, to watch last night's final.

But the best dance I watched came from MJ. Yesterday was the seventh anniversary of my first date with Randy (yep, I still find space in my tiny little brain to remember that day AND my wedding anniversary), and we marked it with a nice dinner outside, a glass of wine and the always entertaining antics of a little girl. Yes, Kristi Yamaguchi had her hip-hop thing, Cristian de la Fuente had his hips and Jason Taylor had his macho muscles ... but none of them had the Beastie Boys.

I've tried to describe MJ's dance style in previous posts, but it's kind of a difficult task when there is no music that goes with it. Her dancing has its own kind of "musicality" -- to use a Carrie Ann Inaba word -- which, until last night, never matched any song she's ever jumped and bounced to.

Apparently, "So What'cha Want" is the beat she's been searching for. Every stomp was completely in sync with the music, every kick had a purpose. She even breakdanced, people. I can't wait to see what she does when I turn on "Brass Monkey" tomorrow night.

One of the best things about having a day off from diapers on Sunday was that it gave me time to do the really important things in life: Like watching classic movies from my gone-but-not-forgotten youth, and trying to hit the pause button on my DVR so I could get this picture of the school cafeteria menu from Sixteen Candles:



I know -- I'm so easily amused. I never noticed this in all the times I've seen this movie; I was probably too busy looking for John Cusack. And I'm not too proud to admit that I Googled the phrase, "canned brownies in light syrup," just in case it was a real delicacy that I've missed out on all these years. I mean, it's possible: After all, "peanut butter balls" were often on the menu at my elementary school (and they were awesome, people ... or, at least, better than the kale), and that phrase would easily be at home between "fishdog" and "cornaroni" on the menu above.

My sister and I have a wicked case of nostalgia for our grade school -- the now-defunct Highlawn Elementary, RIP -- and part of that involves the school lunches. I once spent some time trying to recreate the peanut butter ball at home (to no avail), and we both own several quality, old-school melamine lunch trays like they used to serve our gray hamburgers on. Sadly, they are in the bright, vibrant colors that Target favors selling, instead of the putrid hospital greens, blues and yellow of our youth. They make food look good enough to eat, which is SO not the point of the lunch tray.

Anyway, every now and then, as I'm flipping through channels, I find myself stopping at the public access station, where they are kind enough to broadcast that week's school menu. I thought you'd like to know that after starting the week strong with "corn dog nuggets" and a "pancake on a stick," tomorrow's breakfast lineup will feature the "reduced-fat super donut." If only they were having meatball salad ... I'd pull out the Aqua Net, don my leg-warmers, pump some Milli Vanilli on my boombox and get in line now. Totally gnarly.

Randy and I try to keep up with what the kids are doing these days -- and by kids, I don't mean MJ and Little L; I mean pop culture, or whatever you call the slightly hipper level just above that. You know, we use the kids' lingo around the house, even if our lingo is probably 15 years old by now. It's a vain attempt to sound cooler than we actually are. And by cooler, I mean whatever the kids are saying today instead of "cool."

But you reach a point when it's time to admit that you are old. When you realize, as Randy did last week, that the song on the radio you're bopping out to on the way home from work is performed by a Disney Channel star. (Miley Cyrus)

For me, the realization came last year, when I sat absolutely mesmerized while watching "Jack's Big Music Show" on Noggin. The program has kiddie music videos interspersed with stories about musical puppets. I stopped whatever I was doing when the video below came on, and rewound it about a dozen times on my DVR to watch it again. And then I saved it indefinitely, so I could watch it later. I may have even danced, people! Check it out:



I am crazy about this kid, Leon G. Thomas III. He's like a young Michael Jackson, only suaver, if that's a word. He has "mad" charisma (what year is that phrase from, 1989?). Apparently he is also the voice of Tyrone on "The Backyardigans," and appeared in the movie August Rush. But it's this song, "Duck 4," that will make you all kinds of happy all day long.

***

Adult TV Break: Good news for everybody who loves good TV! Friday Night Lights is back next season! I know, I know -- you've never seen it, you didn't want to commit to an hour-long show about high school and football, etc., and so you're not watching it. I know this because I am one of only 12 people who do tune in to the show religiously. But listen up! Best. Show. On. TV. High school and football are only the vehicles that bring us the very best portrayal of marriage, parenting, the messiness of family life, and social pressures and shortcomings on television, not to mention a lot of beautiful people. Like this one and this one.

In one of my favorite episodes, which you can watch in full here (title: "Who do you think you are?"), the coach's wife, Tami (Connie Britton, who is incredible in this role), flees from the day care center with her newborn on her first morning back to work, unable to part with the little girl. She instead takes her to work with her, strolling the baby around the halls of the high school where she is a guidance counselor until she can work up the nerve to deal with the separation. At home later, with her husband, Eric, she goes through all the emotions that anyone would about the conflict of work and parenting. This episode is chock full of poignant moments that happen so organically -- as they always do on FNL. But none are better than the scene at the end. You'll cry, people, but in a good way.

I also highly recommend "Leave no one behind," available at the same link. Watch it! Season 2 DVD is also out, but why buy it when you can watch it online? The only thing better than TV is FREE TV.