The Seven Deadly Cinderellas

 

As parents, we have to shift our own habits in order to provide the most nourishing/least neurotic environment for our spawn.  We cut back on bad habits like drinking, smoking (where appropriate), and poor nutrition.  Or at least we’re supposed to.  All of us who are worth our salts want to be good, positive examples for our kids.

Another thing many of us have to give up or severely curtail is our enjoyment of adult entertainment.  NO, you dirty birds.  Not that kind of adult entertainment.  I mean standard adult programming with sex (not too  much sex), violence, drama,  and potty words.  You can no longer watch Game of Thrones, Hoarders, or Shameless at will.  You have to wait until your darling children are asleep.  And if they don’t sleep?  Well, be prepared to get a crash course in what it feels like to be over the hill and out of the loop.

All is not lost, however.  There is a wide, wonderful world of children’s programming. Today, I’d like to talk about a golden-oldie:  Cinderella.

We’ve been watching this on and off for a while now.  We’re kind of nervous about showing Stella anything with much fighting, as she tends to enjoy reenactments a bit too much if you get my drift.  Cinderella seemed safe.  And there’s singing.  And animals.  What’s not to love? I’ve not watched this since growing breasts and pubic hair, so it’s been somewhat illuminating.  I’ve made some notes about the movie – things that I didn’t notice as a little girl:

  1. Cinderella was stupid.  Exhibit A: Some bitch and her bitchspawn take over my house and enslave me?  There’d be some ground up glass in their tea biscuits.  I mean come on.  Who can retain such cheer and loveliness with that going down?!  Hasn’t anyone seen Oz?!
  2. Cinderella was stupid. Exhibit B: You fall in love with and marry a prince whom you’ve met ONE TIME while wearing enchanted clothing and riding to a ball in a PUMPKIN PULLED BY MICE?!  Even Anna from Frozen actually talked to Hans a couple of times before getting engaged. Maybe…
  3. Cinderella was high? It’s the only explanation.  The singing.  The talking animals.
  4. And if the animals were in fact there and speaking, there’s still other “issues.” Sanitation, for one.  I guess Cinderella didn’t worry about things like, oh I don’t know, salmonella?  Hantavirus, anyone?

    Please come defecate on my outstretched palm while I sing sweetly....

    Please come defecate on my outstretched palm while I sing sweetly….

  5. And the names. Come on.  You name a fat mouse “Octavius” and call him “Gus” for short?  Where do you even come up with that?  Call the damn thing Gus and get on with it.  The last thing you probably want is a pretentious mouse in the house.
  6. Was Cinderella Chinese? That’s the only explanation for those teeny tiny feet.  They must have been bound.  There’s no way that chick should be able to walk on those feet.  They look to be about the size of my thumbs.  And who says tiny delicate feet are the bee’s knees anyway?
  7. Lucifer: For starters, there’s no way Disney could get away with naming a character that in this day and age, no matter how nefarious.  But to be bullied by a cat?  A cat?  You are a pansy, Cinderella.  You deserve what you get.

    Cinderella: It's intense.

    Cinderella: It’s intense.

There’s tons more I could say (how does Cinderella herself always stay so clean?). And maybe I’m just cynical and jaded.  I do want my kids to have sweet, innocent things while they themselves are sweet and innocent.  But this?  Makes me want a lobotomy.  Hey.  Maybe that’s what happened to Cinderella.  Bippity – lobotomy – boo.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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