Navigating
Commercial Landmines
by Lisa Barker
I'm waiting
for one of the kids to ask me what reptile
dysfunction is. There's no escaping the ads on
television. I imagine how the talk will go so
that I'm prepared:
"What's
er-reptile dysfunction, Momma?"
"It's
what happens when your frog can't catch flies
anymore. Or when your chameleon can't change
colors. Or when your lizard can't grow a tail. Or
when your iguana can't...."
"Woman,
what are you telling them?"
"We're
talking about reptile dysfunction."
"You're
getting your reptiles and amphibians confused."
"Momma,
what happens to Geckos?"
"They get
upstaged by whiney cavemen."
"What?"
"Don't
worry about them. They're upstanding amphibians,
I think, very charming and polite. And they
can save you a lot of money."
This is when I
get 'the look' from one of my kids. The very same
look I expect to get when I am a great-grandmother
and they park me in the corner and send the great-grandbabies
over to entertain me and I scare them by popping
my dentures out at them.
"Oh, look!
Our show is back on." We settle back
only to have our entertainment interrupted by
more sponsors of products for adults.
"Momma,
what's a tampon?"
"It's a
magic wand that makes women wear white and dance
around barefoot once a month."
I don't know
what's worse. Advertising these products for the
general public to view—including
children—or the brainless writers that
actually think women dance around in white
clothes when they're having Auntie Flo over for
tea. There's no amount of anti-depressants, anti-water-retention,
anti-crabbiness, anti-bloating, anti-aching that's
going to make a woman wear white for such
occasions.
It's like
those commercials for women's underwear where
they have about twenty women dancing around in
their skivvies because they are so happy with the
fit. You'll never see a commercial for men's
underwear done like that. Men have standards.
I teach my
kids to respect another's privacy and we're all
embarrassed to be caught in our underwear...but
it's okay to dance around in them on television
because you get money for that.
"Momma,
what's herpes?"
"Uhhhhhhhh."
I can't think of a good segue. What do I tell a
five-year old? It's a sickness that the man
has and the woman really, really hopes she doesn't
have? Think, think, think...herpes, burpies...Slurpees!
"Hey,
that reminds me! When's the last time we had a
Slurpee?"
Phew! We
don't dwell on STDs too much. But soon a
commercial for Cialis runs.
"What's
ED?"
That again.
"Er-reptile dysfunction."
"I don't
see any frogs or lizards. I just see two naked
old people in bathtubs."
"The
frogs are in the tubs." Or are they toads?
At that age you get a little bumpy like a toad.
"Ewwwwww."
"Yeah.
Ewwwwww."
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