Scary stories from a lovely place
Television has a lot to answer for. Lately I don’t know how to break it’s stranglehold on my daily life; and that of my oldest son. Silas has always loved TV, whereas Oisín has never been interested. As a stay at home mum this isn’t what you want. You want them both to be hooked so you can do adult stuff, or you want them both to be bored so you can do something fun with them uninterrupted.
I develop different resolves to deal with the encroaching brain-frying machine, like no TV until after lunchtime or only normal TV – no DVD’s; which I find can feel a bit timeless. And then everyone gets sick, or it rains for a week, or I don’t have use of the car, or the kids fall in love with The Lion King or I am sick of being the Fat Controller or picking Playdough out of the carpet. And I can’t deny that they really do enjoy it. They raucously laugh and express excitement, shock and lots of delight. So my confusion and rollercoaster resolve continue.
Recently we’ve managed to tear ourselves away from it for an extended period of time, go outside and enjoy some wildlife. On our two most recent visits to the local animal park (‘zoo’ is an overstatement), Silas has really enjoyed seeing the animals but without fail, at every exhibit said “they’re not talking mum.” It took me a while to figure out what this was all about, but I think it’s because of television! The animals talk. They have personalities and friends, they even wear neck ties and play soccer. And, creepily, sometimes they own pets. This is why my kid is confused by the dumb animals he sees in real life. To him, they really are dumb.