The husband and I have been sick the last few days, which means the kids have been fending for themselves. I hope they’re alright. I keep hearing this noise that could almost be mistaken for someone wailing “Feed me, please!” but I can’t be sure because I’m deaf in one ear and the other ear could care less. I’m kind of crossing my fingers and hoping that someone has been stopping by to check on the kids every once in a while. Anyway, nobody ever died from eating stale cheetos and diet coke for a straight week and if they did, clearly they had an underlying condition.
Superman has been keeping himself busy watching his dvr recording of Star Wars Episode I since last Thursday. I suggested, weakly and hoarsely from my bed, that he change the channel every once in a while and try to watch some academic-based programming such as Saved By the Bell, whose episodes almost always take place in a school, and well, I am a teacher after all.
Anyway, so Superman has adamantly refused to watch anything other than the same Star Wars movie and don’t get me wrong, I like Yoda and the gang myself but this was starting to worry me, so I harnessed all of my energy and the next time I really had to pee I went the long way and walked by his room to check on him (being a hands on mom means sometimes having to make these sacrifices) and there it was: a ten minute commercial for Girls Gone Wild. In the middle of his Star Wars movie. A movie he’s been glued to for the last five days while I’ve been in the middle of Snot Watch 2010. Ten minutes of drunk blondes and brunettes flashing the cameras and sucking face with each other. Over and over again. In the middle of his Star Wars movie. That we recorded two years ago. At like 5 pm. On a channel that we didn’t have to pay 9.95 for.
First of all, whose the douchebag in charge of programming?
Secondly, the fact that Superman has been glued to the television and refusing to change the channel is merely a coincidence and has nothing to do with these half-naked girls prancing on the screen and stirring up feelings that his father and I are nowhere near prepared to discuss with him so we’ll probably just ignore the whole thing until he’s a little older and learns about sex the old fashioned way: through a misinformed buddy in the locker room.
Thirdly, I can’t believe that in the two years he’s had the movie on dvr, we’ve never noticed that particular commercial before. I don’t want to sound presumptious, but, I blame his father.
On another note, I don’t know what the hell Monchichi’s been up to the last several days, but I bet his pull up needs to be changed.