Setbacks

So, through a series of unplanned events (getting home late, eating at 8pm, playing with the dogs after eating), I ended up having "Nanny 911" running while I half-watched, half-threw balls, half-felt the biological clock turning back, and back, and back, and back. The kindly if completely insane red-haired mother had four screaming brats and a fifth child in her part-time-working, sleeping with the remote on his stomach, magazine readin' husband, who just took up space and occasionally hauled a child up to his bed by his arm.

Oh. My. God.

It is endearing to see how in an hour (or a week, depending on how you're measuring things on TV) that a complete disaster like this household can be fixed (I sense lots of writing and "acting" of pre-arranged scripts, despite the "reality" format), but you can't orchestrate kids like that. They're telling mom to "talk to the eyeball" and scribbling on pillowcases and basically beating the snot out of each other (a sentiment I appreciated, but it doesn't make for good households). When the husband whispered to the horror-struck nanny watching in the background that his wife was doing his laundry, and "isn't that cool?" with a smirk, I think the clock re-set itself to my pre-birth state.

Then I ended up watching another horror story called "Supernanny" (pictured above) which I've seen before, but again featured multiple children, overworked, soft-hearted mom, and clueless dad (though much less clueless than the Fox dad). Once again, in a week/hour the whole thing is fixed up and we can all sleep soundly in the perfection of the Family Unit: White, upper-middle class (these kids have more toys than God), husband/wife combo, big house. No others need apply.

Anyway, speaking of toys and God, here's the bestworst present I've ever seen. Buy multiple messiah for your kids, and watch them battle it out: "No, my Jesus is right!" "Well, my Moses will kick your Jesus's butt." "Maaaaaaam..."

Call Nanny 911, straightaway.