Sunday, January 8, 2012

The Road To Parenthood Is Paved With Good Intentions

When I was the little Diatribest, my parents did what they could to protect me from what they deemed too mature or inappropriate by heavily restricting what I viewed on TV or listen to on the radio.  I didn't view one-eighth of the movies that may classmates saw (Willow? Don't Tell Mom The Babysitter's Dead?) and I wasn't allowed to listen to modern music, so I grew up on the classics, the oldies.  Yet somehow I managed to view The Graduate before I was 11 (which I didn't and still don't understand).  Also, it turns out hearing a little girl belt out "Brown sugar, why do you taste so good, brown sugar, just like a young girl should" is a bit disturbing.

And I respect that.  I hated them at the time, but I understand now what they were attempting to do.  As a parent I attempt to do the same for the Kiddo.  There are some things that I won't let him view because I find them to be downright disgusting, inane, or insulting to children viewers and the adults that created them.

For instance, my parents wouldn't allow me to watch the Chucky Trilogy. (clip NSFW).  So what I gathered about the movies from my classmates was that a little boy had a doll that came to life and killed everyone.  Sounded creepy, but I could separate fact from fiction.  I wasn't afraid my Cabbage Patch doll, which lay on the end of my bed every night along with 30 other stuffed animals, was going to wake up and kill me. 


Then Playschool came out with My Buddy and Kid Sister.  And I confused the murderous doll with a lame doll aimed at friendless, siblingless children.  The kids across the street had a My Buddy, which I swear would follow me around the house.  And it didn't help that the older girl told me her visiting cousin was possessed and would kill all the newborn kittens if I didn't sit on the bed and be quiet.


I'm almost 31 and over-sized dolls still scare the crap out of me.