"Honey, watch where you're going with that. Don't spill it on the — who-o-o-oa!"

It was a Friday afternoon, and I was staring at the TV, bored stiff with this commercial that had come on for about the twentieth time. In it, some girl spills a huge glass of chocolate milk on a living room carpet (white, of course). Her mom gets hysterical, then sprays the stain with some carpet cleaner. Out of the can rushes a team of hungry cartoon gremlins. Ta-da! The gremlins eat the stain and the mom hugs the girl, who smiles cutely with one front tooth missing. Happy music plays in the background.

So realistic. I mean, does anyone ask how the gremlins got in the spray can? Wouldn't the mom and daughter run away screaming if they really saw those disgusting things? And what happens to the gremlins after they fin-

ish? Do they hang out in the house forever? Ew.

All I wanted to do was watch this documentary about the artist Andy Warhol. (I'm really into art, and I figured the show might inspire me.)

I know what you're thinking. I should have taped the show so I could zap through the commercials. Well, I did tape it. Or at least I thought I did.

It wasn't until4:10 on Friday afternoon that I realized I'd goofed. There I was, walking through our living room. My sister, Janine the genius, was reading the newspaper. She looked up at me and said, "You know, that special you wanted to watch already started — "

"I know," I said, nodding confidently. "I'm taping it — "

That's when I looked at the VCR. and saw that it wasn't lit up. I quickly turned it on and saw1:00:00 on the display, which meant I'd already taped an hour of something.

"What happened?" Janine said.

"I don't know," I answered. I rewound part of the tape and played it. It was this weird movie about aliens attacking a hippie commune or something. "I programmed it from four to five, but — "