It started innocently enough, as it does for all of us.

I was a new homeowner with more time than money, who just wanted to do a couple of inexpensive projects that would make my home more comfortable and attractive -- or "warm and inviting," as the industry types say.

And I was a young parent, channel-surfing for something besides cartoons after a child fell asleep on my lap.

That's how I discovered all those do-it-yourself, decorate-for-less, home-improvement shows. That's how they pulled me in and shoved a staple gun in my hand.

The host stands with paint brush aloft and proclaims, "Give me your tired drapes, your poor landscaping, your huddled masses of pots and pans, yearning to breathe free in refurbished cabinets, the wretched refuse of your teeming garage, and I'll show you how to fix them up yourself."

I was a young pioneer in a suburban homestead, and they offered me the American dream on a shoestring.

That was a decade or so ago, and this once-young pioneer is now tired, poor and huddled on the sofa, yearning to just sit still.

I used to think, as I watched dump trucks deliver tons of mulch, sand or decomposed granite, "I can do that!" Not only would my knee doctor now say, "No, you cannot," but these days I myself respond to the false promises and cheerfully misleading edits of DIY shows with, "Ha! Don't even think about it!"

After a decade of carefully managed viewing -- I'm pretty certain I've seen every episode of "Decorating Cents," Design on a Dime" and "Curb Appeal" ever made -- I can save you a lot of grief, not to mention a lot of money for power tools and glue-gun sticks, if you'll just take these few simple rules to heart.

Rule 1. If the project could kill or maim you, call a professional.

By this I mean if it involves electricity or heights or really heavy things that could alter your physiology forever if they fell on or rolled over you, definitely pay someone else to take this risk.

People go to trade school for this kind of thing. Ever heard that line about how the man who represents himself in court has a fool for a lawyer? Same thing with plumbing and electricity.

No, you cannot rewire your kitchen or even hang a new light fixture above the kitchen table by yourself. (This is especially true if you've recently left the upstairs sink running for so long that water seeped through the floor and dripped down the chandelier in the ceiling just below. Don't ask.)

If you decide you can safely tackle the project, remember:

Rule 2. It will take longer in real life than it does on TV.

Fifteen minutes to cut, sew and put up new curtains? One hour to deconstruct a chair, remove its arms and reupholster it as a slipper chair? Oh, please.

The misleading thing about all the design and decorating shows is, they never show you the prep time or the true manpower required. Perhaps a designer with three assistants, two carpenters and an electrician who've spent a month on planning can transform a room in one weekend, with the help of a crew of volunteers who want to be on television, but chances are you can't.

If the rule for hiring contractors is "It will take twice as long and cost twice as much as their estimate," then the rule for do-it-yourself is "triple."

Or quadruple. Not including the cost of your divorce.

Perhaps the HGTV or DIY networks could create a new program that shows one project done by an amateur in real time, including trips to the hardware store and the emergency room. In my experience, one little project could last an entire season.

Or maybe they should launch a show with post-project marriage counseling.

If you consider all these hurdles and decide that you have both the time and the know-how to take a project on, remember:

Rule 3. You can't do it.

No, really, you can't. Just drop the sledgehammer and back away slowly. Trust the voice of experience when I say, "It will end badly."

I know I'm just one of millions who've acquired this wisdom the hard way, because the home-improvement networks have started programming for our disillusionment. Their hottest new shows feature a design professional swooping in to rescue some poor fools from their DIY quagmire -- like "Over Your Head" -- or people too overwhelmed by the mess to even start ("Save My Bath" and "Desperate Landscapes").

The "Over Your Head" guy even taunts Saturday morning viewers with, "Hey, put off your projects a couple hours longer and watch us while you procrastinate!"

Why keep watching what we know we can't do? Because hope springs eternal. Now that they've made over just about every house on the West Coast, these mostly California-based programs are branching out into the Midwest.

Until one of those television teams reaches me, I'll just be sitting here, wisely not working on my house.