I grew up loving The Cosby Show, The Facts of Life, and Growing Pains (Ok, I watched Full House too – don’t judge me!). Then came the Wonder Years, Saved by the Bell, and eventually Friends. In the early 2000s, when no one was watching sitcoms, I loved Scrubs. (Scott and I still quote it on a daily basis.) Now of course, I love The Big Bang Theory, Modern Family, Happy Endings, Whitney, and The Office. Those shows make me laugh out loud.
I love to laugh. I love happiness. I love sitcoms. I do, I really, really, really do. There’s enough junk in life to take seriously, but give me 30 minutes in someone else’s reality, and that is 30 minutes in Heaven to me. Of course, I don’t watch as many sitcoms as I would like each week, but when I do get to see them, the laughing makes my heart sing.
Sometime, in the past 24 hours, I realized something. It’s not a huge something or a profound something, and if I were a comedic blogger I would even know how to make this funny to anyone other than me.
I am not sure if I realized it when I caught my 7-year-old son, watching election coverage while reading his Presidential Encyclopedia for fun.
Maybe I realized this when my husband decided to actually do some housework at the idea that someone might come over and see the wreck we live in.
Could I have realized it this morning when my daughter chose this as her outfit? Of course, this was compromise after a few wardrobe changes. (She has her own style that is for sure!)
Or maybe, it had something to do with me, running around, trying to find everyone, feeling like I am in a constant state of wreck and disorganization. Seriously, some days I think I am one small step away from a real nervous breakdown. Why? Who knows? I think it’s because I am actually crazy, but everyone is too nice to tell me.
Anyway, when you put our family’s quirks together, but take away a “cool jock” you will see that we are the Hechts through and through.
While we dream of the perfect vacation or holiday, no trip is complete without a real misadventure or “lost in the Bronx” story.
The mom does too much for her family, is too involved with her kids, and is so annoying that I want to punch her in the face.
The dad, owns flannel and while he cares, he is work a lot of the time to get too personal with the family. All he wants to do on a Sunday afternoon is watch football, and can sleep through the annoying noises of the kids. In fact, he can sleep like a baby through almost anything.
The 8-year-old is a tad quirky, and loves to read. He is interested in things like Presidents, politics, and grown up issues. Has a tendency to get obsessed with silly ideas, but he has no idea that he’s obsessed.
The daughter ignores what others think about her. She does her thing, has her own style, and is so happy in her own little world, she refuses to notice that she is a bit on the weird side.
Now, as you are reading this, you must be wondering, “Is she talking about the TV family or her family?”
See, there’s the thing, I don’t know….Was I describing the show or the real characters in my life? Gosh, the two are so alike…
You take our quirks, put us in some obscure small town in the Midwest that no one actually cares about, you will see that we live in The Middle!