This is where, if I were a real man, I’d say that my wife is right. But I’m not and to be quite honest am perfectly okay with that.
She’s been pestering me to get rid of some (all) of the TVs in our possession, or at the very least dumb down our cable subscription. I’ve said it before -- that’s just a horrible idea on so many levels. But as farfetched as her drastic measures come off, I’m thinking there’s a solution somewhere within the madness that could work if it means my regaining control of the remote.
My recent epiphany stems from two separate instances yesterday that made me realize I watch, or at least hear, too many children’s television shows on a daily basis. These shows all have catchy tunes that get stuck in your head like a bad song from the 90’s. And because the shows and even the commercials are played on what seems like a continuous loop, it’s easy to find yourself repeating lines of dialogue (or shouting them when Swiper is swiping) in unison with your kid without even realizing you’re doing it.
I submit for the defense:
Instance One
A friend and I are at work discussing possible lunch options. He’s been begging me to go out to eat with him. By begging, I mean giving me a hard time because of the diet I’ve been on for the last three weeks and my decision to punt foods that helped put me in my current dietary predicament. It’s become part of our daily shtick.
He suggests burgers. Ice cream. Tasty chicken tenders, fries, and sweet tea from Raising Cane’s (which I would absolutely love to say yes to but am putting off for a few more weeks). Burritos de Freebirds. I say no to all. He rolls his eyes, displeased in my new lifestyle choices and how they now affect him.
He turns back to his computer and pouts. And by pouts, I mean drops the subject and gets back to work because he really had no intention of going out for lunch anyways because he’d brought his. I decide to turn the table and get his hopes up for an hour-long jailbreak from the office.
Me: What about Ming-Ming.
David: Huh?
Me: For lunch.
David: Ming-Ming?
Me: The Asian restaurant by Target??
David: (confused) You mean NewNew???
Me: Oh, right. Ming Ming is the duck on Wonder Pets…
Instance Two
Last night I’m taking my final Short Fiction test of the semester. For the life of me I cannot remember several answers to what should be some pretty easy questions. My mind was beyond blank.
There was one question in particular that asked about David Barthelme’s short story “The School” and what kind of animal walked into the classroom at the end which caused the kids to go crazy. Sounds simple enough, right? Nope. All I could come up with was a dinosaur. Why a dinosaur, you ask? I was picturing the story as it played out in my head, which turns out really wasn’t the story by David Barthelme at all but instead an episode of Dino Dan.
The culprit is Nick Jr., which is always on at our house. And while it’s a pretty good influence on my kid as far as television is concerned, I’d really like Brady to watch a little more in the way of classic cartoons and a little less pre-school entertainment while I’m around. I mean, a 35-year-old man singing the theme song for Scooby Doo out in public is a little less creepy than one singing “We had a great day. It was a super way, to spend some time together” from the Fresh Beat Band.
Something has to be done while I still have a tiny bit of dignity left.
My proposal? Not to take television away from the kids but to take it back period. Ground Brady from television just long enough that he moves on to kid shows that are more age appropriate for me to openly enjoy and publicly reference. Make him read instead. Sure, he’s only four but there’s no reason to think he can’t teach himself how to read. I mean, the boy already knows ‘hat’ and ‘cat’ and ‘dog.’ This way, should he be able to pick up on a word like ‘superfluous’ somewhere between Dr. Seuss and Ernest Hemingway, making me look like a genius.
You’re welcome, dear.
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