As you may or may not know, a stomach bug set up residence in our home this past week. It started with the 2-year-old. Luckily, she and the vomit bowl were bosom buddies for only 24-hours (that's 2 weeks in mom time). Like all evil stomach bugs, it waited 3 days before hitting my husband and 5-year-old, lying in wait just long enough for us to believe we had escaped its clutches. Today is the one-week mark since the bug hit, and my oldest daughter and husband are still feeling out of sorts.
Where you have sick people, you have a television on 24-7. If you're stuck holding a bowl to puke in, there's really nothing more to do than to just sit around and wait to use it. Might as well watch something, right? Well, after a few days of nonstop Oscar's Oasis, Timmy Time, and about every Pixar production in our DVD collection, I decided to treat my girls to a classic: Disney's Cinderella. I figured, hey, they're into princesses and dressing up in gowns and they'd only ever heard the story read to them; they'll love it!
Cinderella is waking up to birds and mice helping her out of bed. Volume is adequate, reception is excellent, dog is not camped out in front of the screen. What's the problem?
Pixar. The problem is Pixar. Well, not solely Pixar. I guess we can widen the blame umbrella and throw all computer animation in general under there. My children are so used to computer animated entertainment that old-fashioned hand-drawn animation is completely unacceptable. My first reaction was to get annoyed. I mean, I just spent $14 on this movie! It's a classic! What kid (girl at that!) doesn't like Cinderella?!? A movie about FREE shoes AND a handsome prince, c'mon!
And then I remember that I don't like black and white movies. Not only do I not like them, I won't even watch them. It's A Wonderful Life: Never seen it. Casablanca: Nope. Invasion of the Body Snatchers: Heck no.
I guess every generation has their own thing. Color television is mine. Computer animation is my children's. As the mom, though, it's my job to force down their throats expose my girls to the classic squiggly lines of my childhood. As my children, it's their job to turn up their noses and roll their eyes at how ancient their mom is.
Can you relate? We'd love to hear your stories in the comments section!
Glad to hear I'm not alone in this!