Tonight I had to watch two back-to-back episodes of Caillou -- pay-out on a bribe to Caroline for eating all of her chicken nugs. The show is a necessary evil: Caroline and Paulie love it and become absorbed with a catatonic focus at the opening notes of the annoying theme song. Unfortunately for me, Caillou's voice makes me want to put my head in the oven. For those unfamiliar with the show, Caillou is a narcissistic Canadian kid who at four years old is inexplicably bald. (Only Charlie Brown gets to be bald.) I shouldn't hold Caillou reponsible for all of my contempt as his parents, who indulge his every idiotic whim, are partly to blame. If Caillou wanted to wear swim trunks in a snowstorm, they'd let him so he could "learn" that he's cold. I'm certainly no role model parent but when Paulie tried to eat a daisy today, I didn't let him "learn" that it tasted like compost. I might be less agitated if every now and then Caillou's dad said, "I guess you're shit out of luck, Caillou." Or if we could see his mom taking a mid-day swig off a magnum of Sauvignon Blanc.
2 comments:
Paulie actually looked like Caillou for the first 9 months of his life. Now he looks like Ali Caillou.
Kate, your parental skills should never be questioned as the Buddy Lee and Caroline have intelligence far beyond their years. TV is the necessary sanity buffer for my sister, home with her twins as well.
My parents took the Caillou route, letting my brother and I find out on our own that 1)lawn darts are dangerous and, 2)police cars stop when you throw snowballs at their cars. That probably explanins a number of things...
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