Yesterday I had the good fortune to head out on a late lunch date with a dear friend. We headed up to Cheese Bar for tasty eats:my head filled with the decadence of a child-free daytime moment, I ordered a small round of rich, heavenly goat's brie, a small sliced baguette and some olives which had been sitting in a citrusy chutney, bright and sharp in flavor. This, and a nice pint of New Belgian's Belgo IPA, which complemented the repast perfectly. Our conversation lingered until I felt quite sure that any further consumption of the creamy deliciousness of the brie would likely result in severe consequences, and soon our ways had parted... Until we meet again, dear friend.
Giddy with the good afternoon, I decided that I'd do something I only rarely (as in, once every few months at most)...I would try to watch a Grown Up TV Show while Kiddo was awake. I wanted to watch the Golden Globes awards that evening, which started at 5. Joe was out fixing a friend's computer, and so I began making dinner and talked to Kiddo about my plan. "I want to watch a TV show for Grown-Ups. You might see some things that are interesting or maybe something you don't understand, and if you get confused, it's okay to ask me about it."
Kiddo's first question was such a boy question. "Will there be fighting?" Well, there might be a movie clip which showed fighting. Who knows? So I told him that "maybe there will be, but I'll try to turn it off for a few minutes if we need to." He was nibbling his plate of veggies, and his attention returned to his food. He held up his red pepper slice for me to look at. "This is a 'J'" he shows me. Then he takes a bite. "It's an 'I'." Bite. "It's an 'I' still." Bite. "It's an 'O'".
Our conversation then turned to his observations of the neighborhood crow family returning to their evergreen tree, the tv temporarily forgotten.
When the Golden Globes start, Kiddo is in his room playing under a small table draped with baby blankets, pretending he is our cat going in and out of "the Gus doors". Ricky Gervais (sorry, but he's the only reason I am watching the pageantry du jour) and the audience both seem a little nervous after his antics last year. Gervais is good at finding the soft spots to poke at and I like him for not kissing up to the celebrities by compromising on what's really funny. Then, Kiddo's out in the living room and I'm in the kitchen on a commercial break, getting the skillet ready for some tofu.
Suddenly, a promo comes on for "The Celebrity Apprentice". After George Takei (cool beans!) and a few other famous faces come on, there's talk about people being thrown under the bus and then we see Teresa Guidice push a table over. "Mommy, is that a bad person?" Kiddo asks. Hmmm.... there's not a lot of room for nuance in the mind of a four-year old, and let's see, what is he noticing? That a person pushed a table over while others were sitting at it. Sorry, Teresa, but normal people do not act that way unless they are using the table to shield themselves from a natural disaster. "Yeah, honey, that's a bad person." His next question is indicative of the current state of language, because he then asks "who is under the bus?" I reassure him that no one got stuck under a bus and that no one actually threw another person under a bus and that no, no one is hurt. I try explaining that this is something adults say to each other when there is blaming going on, and that yes, it's sort of a strange thing to say.
Between the next few segments, I am tending tofu in the kitchen and popping out to see the glitz and glamour-- but not enough Ricky, sadly. I'm already tiring of this, and we're getting closer to his bedtime. I'm combating commercials by either muting them or refuting them "No, Pepsi is not the most refreshing drink. That's not true." (if you don't believe me, I must introduce you to my friend Gin and Tonic.) When magical swirls of color come down from the top of the screen, along with globs of golden-brown which plop into them, Kiddo is enchanted. "What's that?" he asks. I must now explain to my child that there is a food-substance called a 'nugget' and that the colors are different sauces for the nugget.
At this point, I'm bored with it all and bedtime is nigh, so we head in to read stories and snuggle up. Later, I'll turn on Gervais for his excellent last line, telling them to enjoy the swag bags and reminding the comers/viewers that it was nice to forget about the recession for a bit. Interestingly enough, this joke was hard to find when I researched it, the ones about celebs were far more popular, but for an evening full of the excess and glamor of the 1%, it was by far my favorite.
Now, to get ready for our friend's Oscar party in February!