Show Me That Smile Again

Last night as I got ready for bed, I was hit with a fierce stomach ache.

I tried to ignore it and go to sleep anyway, but the pain was terrible, and lying flat made it worse, so I went into the living room and turned on the TV, figuring that if I had to be awake, I might as well be entertained for awhile.

I hit the jackpot. Nick at Nite was having a marathon of my absolute favorite TV show from the 80s, Growing Pains. It was exactly the comfort I needed.

When I was a kid, the Seavers were my TV dream family. What could be better -- the journalist mom, the psychiatrist dad, the wild boy, the brainy girl and the kid who loved to eat. I wanted to live in their house (15 Robinhood Lane, thank you very much) and be friends with their friends (who didn't love Boner?). I wanted to have wacky adventures like the ones they had.

Even now, I think I would have fit in pretty well.

Growing Pains was my favorite show back then. I loved it. New episodes were appointment viewing, and when reruns started playing in syndication, I would watch them every weekday afternoon at 4. It was a welcome respite from my tumultuous middle school life. Whatever adolescent drama I was suffering, I could find escape on Growing Pains.

The episodes airing last night were the very early ones, and when I turned on the TV, I was instantly taken back to 1986, to my parents' basement, with its tree wallpaper, barn board and furniture with scratchy upholstery. I could almost see my sister, Jennifer, age 13, swooning over Mike Seaver.

Jen had a fierce crush on the dashing Kirk Cameron back in those days. She had his pictures -- ripped out of Superteen, Tiger Beat and other 80s teen staples -- all over her bedroom wall. She had pictures of other teen heart throbs as well, but I think Kirk was her favorite. She once wrote him a fan letter and enclosed a cookie recipe for his mom, who she had read liked to bake.

Surprisingly, she failed to win his affections.

I had a celebrity crush on that show, too, and I'm not ashamed to say it. Kirk Cameron -- dreamy though he was -- was too old for me, so I went for his TV brother, Jeremy Miller.

It's true. I had it bad for Ben Seaver.

I still don't know why I liked him so much. Maybe I wanted to follow the lead of my big sister and her TV crush. Maybe I liked that Ben was always eating; I remember one scene in which he was putting Nestle Quik into a glass of milk, not being satisfied with the chocolate content, so instead pouring the milk into the Quik box and drinking it that way -- I think I might have actually tried that once. Maybe I figured a fake TV boyfriend would never let me down, unlike my second grade crush Kurt (who, inexplicably, failed to be impressed when I told him I'd lost a tooth) or my fourth grade crush Dana (who bit me). Or maybe I really thought he was cute. Who knows?

Whatever the reason, I was crazy in love.

I am a little embarrassed to admit, my Jeremy Miller crush lasted well into the late years of the series. Sure, he was in that dorky teenage phase, but I was too, so really, we were perfect for each other. My affections weren't even swayed during the Leonardo DiCaprio episodes, so it must have been true love.

Alas, things never worked out between ole Jeremy and me. My crush ended pretty much when the series did. But watching last night reminded me of the good old days, when Ben Seaver was my one and only, and when just 30 minutes could mean the difference between the end of the world and a happy new beginning.

And what do you know -- after just one episode, my stomach ache was gone.