I admit that I think it’s a little too early for me to dislike my children’s friends. My kids are only 22 months old, and I have to say that I find their most treasured friend more than a little annoying. Don’t worry, he’s only a cartoon. And if it helps me look less like a heel, I feel like the biggest ogre reacting to a cartoon. So here it is.
While my kids are pointing to the television, asking for this four year old bald boy decked out in primary colors, I cringe a little inside. Yes, I am intelligent enough to know that the boy’s resistance to being with a babysitter, sharing his toys with his sister and telling his mother that he broke a friend’s toy, to name a few, are followed by an immediate lesson. And I guess the idea is that my kids see the cartoon, learn the lesson and then they will want to share, stay with babysitters and fess up when they break their friends’ toys.
I get it. I want my kids to learn lessons.
I guess I’d like to see them wrapped up in a different package. And apparently, I’ll take the package of a monkey over my kids’ current favorite, because I find myself wondering…why can’t he be more like Curious George?
George is a little dude that I can’t say enough great things about. Sure if he were friends with my kids, I would be scrubbing monkey poop off my carpet after every play date. He’s curious by name and nature, and that sometimes gets him into trouble. George certainly makes mistakes–like the time he tried to polish the Man with the Yellow Hat’s bowling ball and ended up sending him to the bowling alley with a gnome statue in his bowling bag.
But, George troubleshoots. He focuses. And in the end, he gets the job done. He doesn’t stand around whining about what’s being put in front of him. He’s action oriented. And not to toot George’s horn any further, but I think the man won the bowling championship when George eventually got his ball to the alley. A solid friend to have.
But I have been warned not to sweat the small stuff. And for now, I am off to do laundry. Because in the morning when the kids ask for their favorite shirts, the ones with you know who on them– I’d like them at least to be clean.