I’m an absolute unadulterated lover of television — but if you ask me if I watch Lost (is that still on?), or Grey’s ‘Natomy or Hou.se or any other prime time all-encompassing drama or comedic show, the answer will be a resounding NO.

In the mid-section of the country where I reside, prime time TV starts at 7 and ends at 10. And the news starts at 10, not 11 like on the much more normal East Coast where I am from. And in a home with a teen and a preteen 7 to 10 is prime homework time, prime dance class time, prime basketball time and/or prime dinner time depending how organized I was the rest of the day. I can’t sit down for an hour unless all the aforementioned crap stuff is done, many times, since I am a loather of board games and bored by card games, we’ll sit down together if we’re not just off getting ready for the next day. And when we do plop down on the couch with some popcorn, you can bet it’s not for an episode of Desperate Housewives or Family Guy.

We’ve gotten sucked into reality shows like The Next Food Network Star (Amy Finley’s show starts this week, yippee!) and even something inappropriate great for teaching lessons about what’s inappropriate, like Beauty and the Geek. We’ve watched plenty of sports and plenty of animal shows and lots and lots of Nickelodeon (go Spongebob!) and Disney Channel (love Hannah Montana) in our day.

But the best fun we have together is when my kids indulge me in my secret television passion. They humor me. They adore me. They think I’m nuts. But, they actually, though probably completely for sport, will watch…my beloved ABC soaps with me.

They are well aware that if I have a say (or a drug-induced dream), Jason Morgan from General Hospital will be their stepfather. Rest assured they do know it is the fictional character who interests me, not the actor who plays him. And that when we all go to live Port Charles we will never have to use the toilet again.

“He’s the nice killer,” my daughter cackles, as she reminds her brother.

“You’ll have body guards,” I assure them. “You will be very safe.”

Now before you get all crazy about the inappropriate nature of soap operas, allow me to reassure you that they are as educational as Bert and Ernie (does anybody watch Bert and Ernie anymore?) or Dora or Blue.

The truest test of the educational value of soaps was when, last year, in my daughter’s English class they were learning about characters in essay writing.

The teacher spoke about writing about “man against himself.”

“Like Tess and Jessica!” my daughter shouted out. “From General Hospital!”
Jessica and Tess were dual personalities - you know - same person.

The teacher replied, “Yes! But that’s One Life to Live.”

Then the teacher spoke about “man against society.”

“Like Sonny and Jason!” my daughter suggested.
Mobsters hunkered down in PC.

“Exactly,” the teacher laughed.

Needless to say she got an “A.”

I have watched Soaps for as long as I can remember, but it seems like something an educated suburbanite doesn’t admit in mixed (other mom) company. It’s embarrassing. Frankly, the residents of Pine Valley and Llanview and Port Charles have it both much better and much worse than I ever will. It’s an escape that does not require plane fare or reservations or make-up (for me).

Anyway, any time someone wears a cocktail dress to visit her newborn preemie in the NICU she is just screaming for my undivided attention, don’t you think?

And who am I to argue with the daughter of Erica Kane?

Oh, and I don’t have Tivo or DVR and I don’t tape shows. I watch shows when they are on or catch the reruns (currently obsessed with Sex and the City, a few years late). Unlike many people who hate tv, I find that there is always something to watch. Today I spent an hour watching BBC America followed by an episode of Bridezilla. The latter really helped me get rid of writer’s block.