Wednesday, November 09, 2005

So thanks for all the Bratz advice. It's nice to know I'm not some kind of psycho prude who's going to end up forcing her daughters into prostitution just to escape the injustice of never owning a Bratz doll. As it turns out, the makers of Bratz have made other, less repulsive dolls called 4 Ever Best Friends. I realize they're a little PC in their mixed-race themes, but face it, My kids are mixed and these dolls look like them and their friends. I think that's important. And since they're made by whoever makes the Bratz dolls, I can buy the Bratz sushi lounge (which is so cool it makes me want to cry) for them and satisfy my obsessive compulsive disorder regarding accessories matching the dolls.

And, best of all, these dolls lack the 'tudz.

I know I spend a lot of time thinking about their toys. Probably too much. But the girls watched one episode of the Bratz Rock Angels cartoon. Jethro and I were there and didn't think much of it until Jethro asked Emma, the good one, to put on her shoes and she raised her little hand, snottily, and said "Whatever." To. Her. Father.

Oh no she didn't, girlfriend. That was nipped in the bud. But all because of that lousy show. They are never watching it again. And in fact, they're never watching the Cartoon Network again. They can watch Nick Jr and the Disney channel. And maybe PBS if I'm feeling generous.

I don't think the makers of those programs know anything about kids. I know the idea is to show spunky girls, full of piss and vinegar, who have fun and won't let anyone stop them. The problem is that the only ogres trying to stop their fun in real life are their parents who want them to go to school or clean their rooms. Yeah. We suck.