If Alexis knew this, she would stomp her foot, put on her best Cowher chin, and declare, "THAT'S NOT FAIR," but I had a TV in my bedroom growing up.
She asks for one in her room weekly, but it ain't happening. We have three people in this house and three TVs. By my math, that is sufficient. Even better, when there are four people, there will still be three TVs because I AM SO MEAN OMG.
Anyway, Alexis wants a TV in her bedroom, but will never get one. I had one, but it came with some catches. For one, the screen was a tiny 12" across, which means it was the same size as the tablet Alexis often uses to play Minion Rush. Is this generation spoiled much? I dunno, but when she uses that tablet, it doesn't require manually turning a dial to change what's on the screen. Alexis also knows nothing of rabbit ears, aluminum foil, and only having access to three television stations.
Those of you old enough to remember life with rabbit ears, no cable, and tiny screens get it. Alexis definitely doesn't.
My refusal to let her have a TV has nothing to do with the fact that I'm jealous that she has better technology than I ever did, though. It has to do with how I used that TV. I wasn't home often, but when I was, I was holed up in my bedroom, staring at that little screen as I created mix tapes, prank called people, and did all of those other things kids did in the 80s.
I really didn't interact with my parents. It started early and it stayed that way. They wanted to watch whatever they wanted to watch, so I was told to go watch my own TV.
I want the opposite for Alexis. I don't particularly feel the need to watch any shows at any time (because DVR), so I'm content with letting her control the remote, just so long as she's sitting on the couch beside me and hanging out with me as she pushes the limits of reasonable consumption of The Disney Channel.
It's because she watches TV with me that we discovered it. Together we discovered that we both enjoy watching The Voice, albeit for different reasons. I'm there to admire the beauty and majesty that is Adam Levine. She is there to admire the beauty and majesty that is truly talented singers. She cheers them on, gets all sorts of kerfluffled when someone does well, and absolutely glows when the judges agree with her about a performance.
Watching her watch that show is often a highlight of my week.
But don't tell her because then she'll stop watching in hopes of tricking me into putting a TV in her bedroom.