A few minutes ago, I left William on my bed, surrounded by pillows so he couldn't roll off. I dashed to the bathroom for just a minute; I don't normally leave him alone on my bed because you just never know when he's going to discover a way off the bed.
But anyway, I came back to find that he had somehow grabbed the television remote control and switched channels. But he wasn't watching CNN or the Food Network or heck, even Sesame Street on PBS. No, my eight month old son was avidly watching "General Hospital."
And so it begins.