Peppa Pig

So, Nick Jr. has this show called Peppa Pig. I don’t know when this cartoon started, or if it’s in syndication now, but I think it comes on a couple times a day; at least. The reason why I don’t know anything about this show up until maybe a month ago, in case you’re wondering, is because I hardly watch any tv, rather cable. I’ll use those two to refer to cable tv. So anyhow, the kids watch Netflix and Hulu programming. I don’t watch much of those apps either, unless Walking Dead is on, or Stranger Things is back. There might be another show or two I’ll tune into every now and then, but the for the most part I don’t partake in television.

So one day Zoie must’ve been tinkering around with the cable remote-shit, she might’ve been stepping on the goddamn thing. It ain’t hers, she don’t give a shit-and she accidentally changed the channel to Nick Jr. Mind you, this was about ten o’clock in the evening, and since she didn’t have a nap earlier that day, due to waking up late, she was comfortably awake in bed, making all sort of noise, giggling, and trying to sing alone with the cartoon jingle.

It was perfect timing, because as the channel changed-as a result of whatever she’d done to the remote-Peppa Pig was just getting through the opening song where the daughter pig says something and snorted every tenth word. I think the cartoon is rather odd, but Zoie loves it. Besides, what does she know about cartoons, she’s all of barely five years old.

The show finally goes off and she looks at me like I did something to cause it to not come on again. I suppose it’s because she has no concept of television programming. I imagine-to her- Peppa Pig and other cartoons should be on, or come on, no second than the moment when they cross her mind.

So I had to wise up in a way that she would completely understand my ‘parent’ explanation. I told her that Peppa Pig had to go to sleep because it was late. What good that did. This little girl got pissed; like Cameron and Lexie had taken one of her morning pancakes. I admit, it was pretty funny watching her meltdown. She was rolling around the floor, tangled up in several blankets, for a good thirty seconds until I disappeared out of the bedroom and re-appeared with a deeper voice. I told her she’d better knock it off before I tan those hips.

When you tell a child you’re gonna ‘tan those nips’, a part of me wants to believe they understand exactly what you mean. Or could it be the voice? But just as fast as I said it, she dried her face, rolled over on her little blanket club house, and started talking to me about shapes; she knew Peppa Pig was going to get her lil’ butt in trouble.

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