The other day, Bridget finished reading the first book in the Little House series. I think we gave it to her for her birthday.

We were in the car when she finished so I started asking her questions. I wanted to know if she liked the book. I wondered if she wanted to read more in the series. I asked her if she wanted to watch the TV show.

That last one really caught her interest. I guess we had only mentioned in passing that they made a TV show based on the books.

Since she has my genes, the fact that they made a TV show out of a book she liked sounded like a perfect world. I told her we would try to find it in reruns somewhere.

This is where the conversation got a little difficult. “What’s a rerun?” she asked.

I started to express surprise. We have raised her the right way. She learned to use the remote at a very early age. When we had a new babysitter, Bridget showed her how to use the TiVo. She knows the numbers of all her favorite channels.

But I caught myself before I said anything because I realized she lives in a world that doesn’t have reruns. Well, it does, but they are so prevalent, you don’t even think of the concept much anymore.
I found the timing of this conversation very interesting because I loved this time of the year when I was a kid. The beginning of school meant the beginning of a new TV season. I would be done with reruns.

Sure, that still happens on the networks, who have managed to push the beginning of the traditional fall season back a few weeks much to my dismay. But not only do kids not watch as much network TV as they used to, they have enough options to make the whole notion of a TV season kind of odd.

That hasn’t stopped me from still getting excited as the new season approaches. Starting tomorrow, all my shows come back to life. I felt so happy when I looked at the list of upcoming recordings on the TiVo and saw all my favorites listed.

For the past few months, I have missed Jim and Pam, Meredith and Derek, Ted and Robin, and all the fun folks from Wisteria Lane. “Big Brother” – my only summer show – has ended its season,  and I have watched enough repeats of “Scrubs” and documentaries on medical oddities. I need my routine to return.

I feel bad for these kids who get a few episodes of “Spongebob” or “iCarly” or “Hannah Montana” thrown at them, then mixed back in with all the other episodes that have seen dozens of times. They don’t have the wonderful anticipation of a new TV season.

That’s why I feel bad I didn’t just tell Bridget that “Little House on the Prairie” was a new show they just put on TV because something new is always better than a rerun. Even if you have never heard of a rerun before.