Bananas in Pyjamas: How do I Loathe Thee, Let Me Count the Ways

One of the very few downsides of having a four year old is that when ABC4Kids comes on late afternoon (usually a godsend), Bananas in Pyjamas come with it, and in our open plan kitchen/living room they are hard to avoid.

Here we have 2 co-dependant buffoons who can barely count to 10, meddling and messing up everywhere they go. They dress the same, speak the same, think the same. They do stupid shit all the time, and never learn from their mistakes. Their ever patient (and somewhat condescending) teddy bear friends are forever trying to figure out just what the hell they have got themselves into (“Ooh Bananas!” said in unison), and getting them out of it.

And then there’s Rat in the Hat. All at Cuddle Town remain steadfastly loyal to Rat, who is no more than a lying, thieving fraudster, out to rip off his loyal friends wherever he can. “Oh that Rat!” they laugh as they realise that yet again, they’ve been duped by this lowlife criminal.

So they set out to teach Rat a lesson (i.e. get revenge) and with two wrongs making a right, at the end they all have a good laugh and Rat invites them over for morning tea.

Then the very next day, Rat fucks them over with another dirty deed, stealing whatever he can get from these unquestioning morons. Or the BinP’s again stick their nose in to someone else’s business with not an ounce of comic intelligence, just infuriating  adversity brought on by bad decisions (WHY would anyone hide JELLY under the cushions on the couch, or behind the books on the bookshelf FFS?).

The message to our kids? Be friends with everyone, even when they consistently lie to you and steal from you and trick you, it’s all just in good fun. Don’t bother to learn from your mistakes, always play the fool – it’s ok to have people laughing at your stupidity. Trust everyone, no matter what they do to you or how much they speak down to you. Oh, and forget individuality and independent thought – they’re overrated anyway.

ABC have just announced some rescheduling of the 5pm time slot on ABC4Kids. I for one am praying to the TV gods that the Bananas and their Pyjamas are once and for all put out to pasture – or better yet put in the hands of the Taronga Zoo monkeys to deal with.

Just change the channel, you say? Don’t be silly – then I’d have to actually play with my daughter!

 

 

Is Katy Perry a Caterpillar?

Tippi chef

“Mummy”, Tippi said on the way to preschool this morning, “Is Katy Perry a caterpillar?”

“No, she’s a person who sings, why do you think she’s a caterpillar?”

“She just feels like a caterpillar, a purple one.”

“In what way, darling?”

“Well, she sounds like a caterpillar.”

Katy Perry…. caterpillar…. I can see where she’s coming from.

That’s My Girl, Doing Us Proud

I’ve always been a bit miffed that our only child  is so her father. From the moment she popped out, her lips, her tall, slim body, everything is him. Put a baby pic of them both together, they are the same baby. There is nothing, NOTHING of me in her.

I hoped that maybe she’d be left handed like me. No. She’s not, no matter how hard I cane her hand as she practices her letters.

Then she walked me through this drawing she did at preschool:

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“So that’s Maddie, and Evie, and Evie’s Mummy, and Evie’s Daddy with a MASSIVE PENIS! BAHAHAHAHAHAH!”

Oh dear, maybe there’s a bit of me in her after all….

 

 

 

 

 

My Kid Gave me Goosebumps Today

Minnie Mouse reincarnated?

Minnie Mouse reincarnated?

…And made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Miss Four and I went to the medical centre to get her vaccinations done, she was being surprisingly calm about it, actually she felt quite grown up.

I parked in the parking lot next to another car and in the drivers seat was an old lady – maybe 85 or so – glaring at me I assumed for parking so close to her. I live in a rural area dominated by seniors and they get really cranky about all the SUVs in the car parks in town. I mean, if the car spaces are too small, take it up with the council, right? What other car could be more practical for both farm and family life? I shoved and shunted a bit to give her more room to open her door, but really I was perfectly positioned in the middle of the marked out space. So I was internally eye-rolling at yet another cranky old “dear” tch tching me.

As we were getting out of the car, Tippi – Miss 4 – said “I like that lady, can I talk to her?” and straight to the window she went and said “hello!” with a big, gorgeous smile and a wave. The lady was nice to her, but said not a word to me – not that she had to mind you but I’m just making the point that she wasn’t exactly engaging us in any exchange – this was all driven by Tippi. We walked in to the doctors surgery and went about our day.

When we came out of the nurses room some 45 minutes later, Old Lady was sitting, waiting for her turn. “Hello!” says Tippi.

This time Old Lady was quite lovely with Tippi and they had a little chat. I should point out that my daughter is charming as all four year olds are, but she is also OFTEN extremely shy and whilst not unheard of, it is very rare for her to initiate conversations with strangers. I needed to go to the loo so Tippi begged me to let her stay with Old Lady while I did that. She didn’t seem to mind, so I went, gobsmacked wondering where my shy little girl went and bursting with maternal pride. Tippi was being utterly delightful and the Old Lady couldn’t help but be charmed by her.

As we were leaving, we said our goodbyes, and then Tippi ran back to Old Lady and said: “Excuse me, can I come to your house for a play one day?” The poor old thing spluttered out an excuse that she didn’t live in a house, she lived with lots of old people who might not like her to come and play. Tippi accepted that and off we went.

In the car on the way back to preschool, she was quiet for a while then suddenly said: “In the olden days, when mummy wasn’t around and daddy wasn’t around, I played with that lady but I cant remember her name.”

Hellooooo goosies! It reminded me of a time around two years earlier when she would be in the bath and occasionally looked past me out the window and said “who’s that?”. There was never anyone there, but it always rattled me a little.

Tippi must have seen a look on my face, because she then said: “But it’s just a story, Mumma.” I told her I thought it was a lovely story, and that was that.

If I did give her a look that made her think she’d said something wrong, I deeply regret that. I’m not taking this as some kind of evidence that reincarnation exists, but equally I don’t want to stifle her imagination with grown up perceptions. If it was just a story – and it more than likely was – what lovely creativity is starting to come out, I would only ever want to nurture that.

Do I believe in reincarnation? I’m open to it, but I tend to shrug it off with the belief that if it does exist, we’ll know soon enough when we’re dead.

Have your kids ever said or done something that spooked you just a little?