Last night I snuggled in bed with the kids while I nursed Thomas, and by habit I turned on the television. I was giddy to discover the nostalgic Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was just beginning, and revved Ruthie up to share in this moment of bonding with her dear old mom.
First let me say that, having not seen the show since I was a kid, I was astounded by the 1960’s era political incorrectness and was very surprised to see it still airing. Seems like some sort of feminist group, or Sons Against Overbearing and Berating Dads group, or Workers Unite Against Unfair Work Practices group would ban the airing of such a show.
I mean, really: Donner telling his reindeer wife she can’t help look for her son because it’s Man’s Work? Obviously this portrayal of women came long before the Jodie Fosters of the world kicked ass rescuing their children from safe rooms and airplane cargo holds.
Poor Rudolph. I’m sure that, were a sequel created, it would have followed Rudolph through his young adult years as he struggled with alcohol, sexual identity, obesity, and perfectionism.
But I digress.
This morning Ruthie woke up at 6am crying that she was scared. I went into her room and she said the Snowman (‘snow-tan’) was in her bed.
I KNEW that would get her, which is why I turned off the show half way through at the scary part. But I guess I was too late. The big scary snowman with the crazy eyes and jagged teeth haunted my daughter in her dreams.
Chalk another one up to the stupid things moms do.