It’s not Facebook, although you can sometimes tell I have this ritual because I will post things there. Every Sat morning, I get up, make some coffee, and look at ridiculous shit on Pintarest. And then I laugh, sometimes until I cry, or cry and snort. I have decided this is the grown up equivialent of cartoons, which used to be the best part of the week for me. As a kid, Saturday mornings were sacred, not to be missed or messed with.
I had it all lined up…first Scooby-Doo, then the Superheros, sometimes a Hanna Barbara cartoon like Aquaman or Captain Caveman, with others thrown in depending on the time period. “Land of the Lost” was my absolute favourite, where a Dad and his kids go river-rafting and end up going over a waterfall and into another dimension, where there are dinosaurs and also, aliens. I mean, the brilliance of that concept blows me away still. I’m still a sucker for dinosaurs and aliens, actually. (The Aliens apparently had to wear their mothers old drapes for clothing too, like the Von Trapp’s)
Now I know the truth: Saturday morning cartoons were created so parents could have sex at least once in the week. It was really the only time you were given carte blance to watch TV for hours. And if you accidentally went to their room to ask about something, the answer was always, “in a minute” or “go make yourself some food”. This was totally fine by my brother and I, as it meant endless bowls of cereal followed by whatever snacks were in the snack drawer. I never questioned the Saturday morning ritual because it was so perfect, and to question it would be to possibly bring about its loss. Its like Christmas. Sure, there are some niggling issues, like, we don’t have a chimney and does that mean Santa jams out of the woodstove, or what, but you just have to push these thoughts aside, and relish in the moment.
Unfortunately for my kids, they (mostly) do not have Saturday morning cartoons. I know, travesty. For all of us, really. Soccer games on Saturday mornings: 8 a.m.? Who the fuck thought this was a good idea? I mean, don’t you people know my KIDS SHOULD BE WATCHING CARTOONS? Damn you, soccer schedule. I have to get up, throw gear in a bag and clothe people, feed them, and shove them out the door to be somewhere by 8. I don’t get to lay in my bed, ignoring my children, getting some. Nope, somewhere out there, a soccer scheduler owes me big time. Perhaps I will send this post to him or her, to make it clear that next year our team should be given several hours to do sweet FA on Saturday mornings. It will make everyone happier, trust me.
But, I have now found something, at least. I ignore one child, drink endless amounts of coffee, and then look at Pintarest. She gets to watch shows her brother doesn’t like: My Little Pony, Power Puff Girls. I get to watch videos of animals getting stuck in the couch. Everyone is happy, except perhaps my husband, who gets to freeze, and doesn’t get much else.