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Apr. 10th, 2006 @ 03:15 pm
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So I've followed the crowd and done gone and made myself a dot-com.
I'll leave this blog up while I transfer archives and whatnot, but all further posts regarding the B World will be made by The Average Blogger.
Come visit! |
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This will dovetail nicely with a secondary topic raised in a post by Citizen Mom on yon blog. Check her out.
( Musing on KidTV )
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So, we've been listening to the Laurie Berkner CD where she does the updated version of the Three Little Pigs.
I say "updated." I think I mean, "sanitized." Why don't any of today's kids stories have grisly endings? In my day, the Big Bad Wolf in the Three Little Pigs fell into a pot of boiling water and, "that were the end o' Buddy," as TomPop likes to say. But now? Well, on Mizz Berkner's CD, the wolveS (note the lack of adjectives and the added plural form,) scramble back up the chimney, cool their burned bottoms in a forest lake, then decide to go back and party with the pigs.
Thefuh??
TomPop and I have been having all sorts of fun deconstructing this. First of all, how do pigs build houses? They don't have thumbs.
And, as TomPop pointed out, ain't no way those wolves are that dumb. Wolves are pack animals, and they'd just surround the house and wait for the pigs to come out, not go skittering down a chimney with no idea what's at the bottom.
And if you were a pig, would you really have a party with the dudes that were JUST TRYING TO EAT YOU? I think not. What happens when the first belligerent wolf gets a few beers in him? Then what?
And regardless of which version you read, I'm seriously curious: What, really, is the moral of this story? Sponge off your smarter relatives when your house gets blown in? Always have some boiling water on hand in case of intruders? Make sure all buildings you enter are up to code? Was the original story commissioned by a bricklayer union? What, exactly, is going on here?
I say as long as we're updating, why not make the little pig in the brick house say to the others, "Hey, screw you. You wanted to go chintzy on houses of sticks and straw, so suck it up. Go apply for a FEMA grant and leave me alone."
And why is the strongest house still only made of bricks? Why not, say, reinforced concrete or aluminum siding?
Why do the wolves still try to go down the chimney? Why don't they use cellphones and practice some psychological warfare? Why not get some automatic weapons that bricks don't stand up to?
Grumble.Current Mood:  curmudgeonly |
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Just when I'm ready to put the little bugger up for adoption, he redeems himself in epic fashion.
Today the Young Prince:
-- Whined that it was too cold when we went outside to play this morning.
-- Refused to do what he was told without it becoming a federal case.
-- Broke a snowglobe by chucking it down the stairs and cried when I made him help clean it up.
-- Stripped naked in the time it took me to answer the door and did nudie shimmies for both a water filter salesman and my next-door-neighbor. On separate occasions.
-- Shrieked like mad when instructed to do anything.
-- Shrieked like mad when his proposal to eat marshmallows for dinner was rejected.
-- Strangely accepted matters when I told him that as soon as his cartoon was over, it was bedtime, and he had to be quick because I am still working.
-- Got a tremendous case of the giggles during his second lullaby.
-- Instructed me to put his CD player on “low. No, lower. Turn it down.”
-- Melted my heart when he kissed me goodnight and said, “OK, mama. You can go do work now. See you in the morning.”
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Some of you might remember this post...
Well, as it turns out, Tom got his first-ever skating lesson from a national champion! My favoritest embittered LA Industry pal from college got her first medal ever in Nationals, and it was gold! She writes, "It was especially sweet considering I almost missed the plane there because of work and skated on less than 3 hours sleep. The routine I performed was of a Car Wash "Roller", complete with a sudsy afro and a new car scent air freshener around my neck."
 
I'm so proud of her!! (And note to Auntie S: Tom will probably be out there for his next lesson and bedtime story around Thanksgiving.)
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