The family sits all friendly enjoying a family friendly episode of The Fresh Beat Band about a bunch of friends who love each other like family. The boy jumps and sings off-key, but his impressive shoulder rolls and fist pumps distract from the sound. I make a simple observation.
Simple Observation: “Oh. That’s weird. They replaced the first red-head girl with another red-head girl that’s supposed to be just pretending like nothing happened. Like ‘No. I am the same red-head girl you know and love…. just with wider hips and a semi-crooked nose and maybe also a different name and social security number and voice and..”
Tom shakes his head. I spot this as the tell-tale sign of him preparing to drop some knowledge. If a head shake could speak it would say “Ugh. No, silly. What you need to know is…”.
“Sex Tape Scandal. Definitely. The first red-head. For sure,” he says casually as he continues to bob his head a bit to the group’s funky track “Go Bananas!”.
“Oh. Oh my God. Oh, ” I am so stunned I do not notice him chuckling at my disgust. After Britney Spears went all barefoot/ Cheetos fingers/ crotchless shorts in her twenties, I don’t know what to expect from child stars anymore. I guess they can’t be 12 forever so…. sex tape?
I turn the TV off and shove a Sesame Street coloring book in front of the boy. Wholesome. Innocent. There. But the husband’s little joke has ruined all things, and I am eyeing the coloring book page, a black and white cartoon of Big Bird and Oscar skating through the park, with much skepticism. Why are they in the park? Drug deal? Potty prostitution? WHAT IS THAT DIRTY BIRD UP TO?!?!?
Meanwhile the boy still rambles through the words of one incredibly dope Nickelodeon hip-hop track. I pray for his childhood and worry for the day when he is heartbroken to discover the future Britney Spears of the world. Life lessons at their toughest. Son, I know you thought her only goal in life was to teach you letters, numbers, and the occasional scientific fact. But sister’s gotta pay that rent.