The Simpsons. I remember watching you on my parent’s old analog TV. The one with those funky bunny ear antennas and the 15 different buttons that each corresponded to a channel. Yep, those were the days. The days of TV-time restrictions (Asian parents) and nothing seemingly important to worry about.
Everyday at 6 pm sharp. Sometimes at 7:30. Sunday nights. You were a typical American family. You made me laugh, you entertained me, and for those twenty minutes (and ten minutes of commercials), I felt at home, experiencing these same things in my imagination, replaying what had just happened on the screen in my mind.
And you taught me a very important thing – that there is no such thing as a perfect family. You were open about your shortcomings. You broke the mold of the traditional, no-drama nuclear family with two and a half kids and a cookie-cutter house in the suburbs. Because it was never like that. And you made me appreciate my own family, perfect or not, that much more.
Happy twentieth birthday.