There’s a specific type of comfort that comes from watching a show where the stakes are low, the insults are witty, and the protagonist is constantly tripping over his own oversized feet. For me, that show right now is Son of a Critch .

We follow (a brilliantly awkward Benjamin Evan Ainsworth), an 11-year-old who is too smart for his own good but too naïve to survive middle school. He lives with his sharp-tonged father, Mike (Mark Critch playing a fictionalized version of his own real dad), his doting grandmother (the legendary Claire Rankin), and his older brother, Mike Jr.

Do yourself a favor: Grab a mug of tea (or a soda pop), put on a sweater, and spend some time in St. John’s. You’ll leave smiling.

Mark Critch (the adult) playing Mike Critch (the father) is a meta act of genius. He isn’t playing a sitcom dad; he’s playing a tired, loving, sarcastic 1980s everyman. He doesn’t give pep talks; he gives reality checks. When young Mark says he wants to be a writer, Mike replies, "You mean a starving writer?" It’s brutal, but it’s love.