I have a confession to make. I have a problem with a slight addiction. I must place part of the blame of this ongoing addiction on Sam, who has been, the enabling boyfriend, then fiancé, and finally, the enabling husband. I have had this addiction since about middle school but, grew to uncontrolled levels my sophomore year at UGA.

It was Thursday night, Sam was over, and we had homework to do; but, innocently and “accidentally”, the channel on the TV changed to Beverly Hills 90210. As long as the channel was ALREADY ON 90210, we supposed we could watch it together. And so, the addiction continued with said enabler. There it is, Sam and I LOVE teeny bopper television shows!

After 90210 ended, (A really sad day for all) we leached onto Dawson’s Creek. (Which subsequentl ended) We made our way over to Summerland (Lasted only one season), then, The OC (Also a sad ending) and have landed on Friday Night Lights. We have considered that there is a possibility that our viewer ship is the kiss of death to any show; but, we have ignored it.

I bring this up because both Sam and I recognize that there were parents on each of these shows; but, until last night, we have always identified with the teenagers or college students on the show. I suppose we all want to think we stay somewhere around college age forever; but, last night, the inner “momma bear” and “papa bear” in us both jumped out and strangled the inner teen.

On Friday Night Lights last night, the Coach/ father walks in on his teen daughter having sex with her boyfriend. (Audible gasps from the living room couch) Both Sam and I had the very same reaction. We suffered through this anguish with the Mother and Father characters, and began to mutter things like, “Oh, man,” and, “not our daughter”. This was followed by a discussion of “what if that was our daughter”. There it is: we identified with the parents for the first time. Not the kids; but, the old, boring, un-cool, jumped-off the fashion train, 80’s rock listening, parents.

Now what? Do we get papers in the mail certifying us as “old, boring, and un-cool?” Actually, there is no need to get papers. We lost all cool points the day we uttered, “because I said so” to our toddler. While WE may not have identified with the parents in the shows, our child, and hopefully, our children, will identify us with the parent. Truth be told, we really don’t want to be teenagers again, and we certainly have no business being our kid’s friend. So, the scene on last night’s show was not one of new revelation; but, confirmation that our hearts, really are in the right place to raise children. Teenagers are a different story; but, at least we’ll have a great library of teeny bopper shows to draw inspiration from.