Doctor Who - the bond between a mother and son

A few weeks ago, I said I hadn't posted a blog in months. That wasn't exactly true. Driven by utter and absolute disgust in learning that those Jersey Shore twats make more money than the Glee kids (who possess actual talent), I did a very ranty post about the state of the television industry.
I took it down a day later. Who am I to judge what people watch? (heh heh - but if you do indeed watch Toddlers and Tiaras, we're fighting)

I think I was frustrated because I couldn't find a good family show for me and my oldest son to watch (other than Discovery Channel fare) that wasn't loaded with sex/sexual innuendos or violence/disturbing content without frying our brains on obtuse drivel (a la Hannah Montana and Suite Life).

Then we found Doctor Who.
This British series (a reboot, btw... which began anew in 2005) has the perfect mix of interesting characters, fun dialogue and a requisite amount of alien creepiness to keep an eleven year old boy happy.

Because the show utilizes a terrific mix of science fiction with reality, it's opened up the kitchen-table dialogue -- always a bonus.

The Doctor time travels and has found himself in WWII, saving Shakespeare and meeting Queen Victoria, flirting with Madame Pompedor, etc... and it's spurred some discussions we'd likely never would have had.

We pause the show, discuss things like London's blitz, and how my hubby's mother used to have to hide under the dining room table when the bombs dropped, or how plays were revolutionized by Shakespeare and the Globe.

And oh... the memorable one-liners that we now toss to each other have become our secret inside jokes. "Don't they teach recreational math anymore?"

Anything to connect to my adolescent kid gets two thumbs up in my book!