Shoot The Care Bear
December 1, 2009 · Activities | Behavior | Influences
A little twisted humor is harmless, right?
No Mercy For Pink Ursine With Magic Rainbow
Eyeballs from Minerva, meaning that Girl Child’s playdate friend might be disturbed and her parents, if they hear, will think I’m psycho.
Sorry, Baby, but GC has already hauled out the pink plush Care Bear. And she has her friend all worked-up about this great thing Daddy does.
So here we go:
GC squeezes the Bear’s paw, and it sings “The Wheels On The Bus.” I fake rage and make my right hand into a gun.
Next I do the bear, pleading in kiddytune falsetto not to shoot because that would be mean and I want to be friends.
Bang! Right in the magic rainbow.
Good thing our guest is a child of Monty Python’s green and pleasant land, which is to say British. She giggles.
Nevertheless, we skip singing our Care Bear song (same tune as the Dredel Song for Chanukah):
I have a little Care Bear.
I shoot it with my gun.
The Care Bear begs me not to,
But I do it just for fun.
Girl Child, thank God, never was into Care Bears. We got ours because GC wanted to send it to a friend back in Los Angeles who remained a Care Bear fan into pre-K. On her it seemed right and fitting because she overflowed with lovingkindness like no kid I ever knew. GC still speaks of her as the Nicest Girl In The World.
But then Daddy spaced on shipping the thing, and we unpacked it. GC made it sing one of its recorded preschool songs, so I shot it.
Instant father-daughter classic.
Odd how much joy this brings, especially in view of our household anti-violence. The kid can’t stand the thought of shooting actual animals.
But there's no such thing as a Care Bear, and, I truly believe, we all have a special need for dark, sick, and twisted.
Six-year-olds obviously do. I mean, just listen to the horrific stuff they say and pretend and laugh at like little fiends.
And maybe GC needs to kill off things outgrown, like…
- Pink
- Toxic cuteness
- Fake rainbows
- Kiddy entertainment with dumb, humorless, on-the-nose moral uplift
Heck with overthinking, though. It works for us.
In maybe another month, GC will want me to shoot the Care Bear.
Bang! Right in the magic rainbow.
Is this wrong? Nuts? Do you do sick-and-twisted with your kid(s)? Tell.
Pater’s Plays
O mio babbino caro (from Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi) by Renée Fleming
Pops of love-struck teenagers will relate. A daughter works “dear little daddy” so he’ll let her marry a guy she’s crazy for. She gets cute, begs, threatens to throw herself in river, howls how it hurts. But very, very beautifully, no?
Advertisements
Pater’s Picks
The Hurt Locker directed by Kathryn Bigelow
Fatherhood adds immeasurably to the hurt of U.S. Army soldiers portrayed in this Iraq War masterpiece -- N-O-T definitely not for kids -- that deserved more than…
March 9, 2010 | Permanent Link
Recent Blog Entries
- Seven-Year-Old Shows New Racial Awareness · March 6, 2010
- Pater Shines · March 5, 2010
- No-Brainer Pancake/Waffle Batter · February 24, 2010
- Dad, You Are Embarrassing Me! · February 19, 2010
- A Man Must Do His Own Daisy Girl Iron-Ons · February 17, 2010
- Child Can Swear On Very Special Day · February 12, 2010
- Never Again - Morning Homework · February 3, 2010
- No Is New Yes · January 29, 2010
- Loneliest Number Is Three · January 26, 2010
- Ghost of Birthday Party Past · January 20, 2010
Blog Entries by Category
Advertisement
Comments
Weren’t you the concerned Pater when your GC was using a death ray or some such nonsense to “kill” kids on the playground? Now you’re asking if it is wrong and twisted to encourage your child to assassinate Care Bear? You and GC love the twisted side of life. My question back to you is this: Is her dark delight nature or nurture?
Comment #1, posted by YaYa on December 1, 2009 at 10:46:34 PM
My answer to you YaYa is both. Aren’t you the one drinking booze out of sippy cups? Can I join you?
P
Comment #2, posted by Pater on December 2, 2009 at 08:28:10 AM
I wish I could have cocked a finger and shot the man behind me on the flight from London Sunday, who sang (and snapped his fingers) to his little child for at least half of the seven-hour flight. Instead, I just chose the cowardly route, rolling my eyes.
Any time you darken childhood’s Technicolor excess, it’s a good thing. But then, when my husband offered to have our daughter’s boyfriend killed her freshman year in college, after he broke up with her (it was a joke!), I freaked out that he or she would get turned in to the authorities. Humor is dangerous these days.
Comment #3, posted by Debbie Galant on December 2, 2009 at 12:44:30 PM
So GC’s fiance, (my son) and I hunt when we are out in public. We see any women or tweens in zebra-print we do what every other set of mother/son lions you know do. We chant, “zebra zebra, kill kill.” and follow them around as if we are stalking through the savannah until it is no longer in our time constraints to do so.
At least we know they will get along, and have much fun on their sushi dates.
Comment #4, posted by Purple Anjel on January 30, 2010 at 04:13:21 AM
Post a Comment