The Serb and I pride ourselves in our restraint when it comes to using television as a babysitter. Granted, we may have gone a bit too far with our first-born—sheltering him from television until he was three years old has resulted in him being rendered catatonic in front of any program (i.e. Bass Fishing on Saturday afternoons)—but in general we allow our children responsible screen time in manageable doses. Or so we thought.
What follows is a verbatim transcript from a recent conversation overheard between my nine-year-old son and four-year-old daughter:
Him: Arrested Development is my favourite inappropriate show.
Her: Mine too.
Him: I like Tobias Funke. He’s hilarious and sometimes is coloured blue. And he showers in shorts.
Her: I like the lady with the golden hair.
Him: She’s Lindsay and Tobias is her husband. But they don’t like each other much.
Him: The grandma-mom is also funny, and she loves al-kwo-haul (ed. note: he means booze)
Her: They all do.
Him: GOB is my favourite. He dances and does magic and thinks he’s really cool. But he’s kind of an idiot.
Her: The golden-haired one is his sister. I like her.
Him: Yes. And Michael and Buster are the other brothers. Michael’s the only normal one.
Her: Buster has no hand.
Him: Yes, and he’s dating a grandma, but not the drinking one.
Her: I’m the one with the golden hair (ed. note: guess who’s seen Rapunzel 26 times?).
Her: You’re George Michael.
Him: Gross! No Way! He loves his cousin, Maeby!
Her: Oh, right.
Him: Daddy can be the grandpa in jail, mommy’s the old lady drinker, I’m GOB and you’re Lindsay.
Her: With the golden hair?
Me and the Serb: COME ON!