One of my favorite guilty pleasures is watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I know that it’s full of misogyny, stereotypes and the high school kids are overly sexualized. But I still enjoy demon killing as much as the next person. I like the witty social commentaries and while Buffy Summers is a bad ass at slaying big bads, most of her life outside the Hell Mouth is still just as shitty as the rest of us: her parents are divorced, the principal already hates her, her first love tries to kill her, she gets a little sister, and then her mom dies. When that’s not enough, she fails out of college, has to work in a fast food joint, and she’s almost always loosing her house.

It’s a great show.

The problem is that I can’t commit to watching anything for forty-two minutes unless I know that I’m going to like it. But I need something to watch while I fold the laundry, because one time I walked into my bedroom, to find the husband folding the laundry.

“Why are you doing that?” I asked

“Because I love you,” he answered

“But I love you and I don’t fold the laundry,” I replied

“I know…” He said.

So now, I force myself to fold the laundry, but I allow myself to watch something while I’m doing it. I already did the great rewatch of ‘House, MD’ 2018, so I started Buffy. Now, I don’t let the kid watch it because of the language, all the monsters, killings, sexualization of all the characters, and not being age appropriate. But then came the musical episode.

If you’ve never watched the show, Once More With Feeling, it’s probably one of the best musical episodes of any show, ever. Including the one in Grey’s Anatomy. While the Grey’s musical episode was very good, the music wasn’t original. Once more with feeling is all original. So I thought 2kicks might enjoy the singing and dancing, plus the costumes are really colorful and the so called ‘bad guys’ were just giant dolls.

Well, this backed fired.

First, the kid thought it was too scary, even with the dancing. But she still kind of wanted to watch it, mostly with my hand on her face so she could cover her eyes every few seconds. That meant that I couldn’t fold the laundry. Then, she didn’t think the dancing demon was very nice and then, there was the ending. If you remember, that was the episode were Buffy and Spike kiss passionately as the music swells in the background and the curtains drop very old Hollywood style.

“What are they doing, mama?” She asked,

“Mmm…aaa….well… they are kissing, Gordita” I said a little shaky and confused. 2kicks didn’t say anything back, so I turned off the show and said, “You know, like mama and papa kiss, because we love each other,” I finished. She seemed to be satisfied enough with that answer, so I dropped the subject and went about our lives.

Fast forward to last weekend, I had completely forgotten about the Buffy incident and we had this exchange,

“Mama?” She said

“Yes, gordita,” I answered

“Can you tell papa not to kiss me on the lips anymore?” She asked and my heart sunk.

“Of course,” I said, “Thank you for using your big girl voice,” I added that because I want to encourage her to tell me these things. I told the husband and while he understood, he was completly saddened by it. That’s he’s little baby girl.

I don’t know if or how much that scene had an effect on her. I don’t know if or how much damage I may have caused her by my hatred of folding laundry. And the thought that I might had made her mature sooner than she needed to, feels a little bit like someone poking you with a pair tweezers: a surprise stabbing sharp pain, that somehow doesn’t break the skin.

Luckily for me, they now have Jeopardy streaming on demand. She’s not going to want to watch that.

Advertisements

One thought on “Torture

Leave a Reply to David Redpath Cancel reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s