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The Enemy

January 4, 2012

Essays for Giggles, Mom Stories

Before-child, I had no idea the level to which parents were being shamelessly molested, in broad daylight no less, by every snake oil salesman in the world.   Yea, I am looking at you, Disney.

Since becoming a mom to a consumer conscious mini-being, I have been inundated by the long, bony fingers of pick-pockets at every turn.  I feel like there is constantly someone else’s hand in my purse.  Yea, I am looking at you, Disney.

Speaking of Disney, I recently took my child to the epicenter of the universe in Orlando and noticed a stunning difference from the Disney World of my youth.  EVERY RIDE forces you to exit through a gift shop selling themed merchandise SPECIFIC TO THAT RIDE!

These people may be monsters, but they are genius monsters.  After frolicking with Johnny Depp on the Pirates ride, how can you NOT want a sword and dueling pistol?  A ride on the dinosaur coaster?  Gotta have a toy dinosaur.  Maybe even a faux dinosaur egg.  Snow White… Peter Pan… the list goes on… don’t even get me started on Cinderella.  Seriously, we paid $200 to have lunch with young women dressed as Disney Princesses who had won wet t-shirt contests at local bars the night before.  I am just sayin… Jasmine needs to put on some clothes.

When I went there as a child, there was no shortage of souvenir shops, mind you, but you waited all day, until the END of the day and then got to select one or two exorbitantly priced items to take back to your hotel room.  Now I am schlepping crap around in a backpack all day.

Oh, and while I am STILL on the subject of Disney… up until my daughter was 5, I let her watch only two commercial-free channels, then I opened Pandora’s box with the Disney Channel.  I would leave her in the room watching something age-appropriate – like Mickey Mouse’s Clubhouse – to come back into the room to see her watching a Hannah Montana video during a commercial break… for Mickey’s Clubhouse!!  Those evil geniuses were DELIBERATELY grooming my 6 year old to watch material for 13 year olds, by encouraging her to emulate a young woman three times her age… and we see how the pole straddling, salvia smokin’, hootchie momma Miley turned out… thanks for the role model, Disney!

Now, there is a new assault on my horizon… maybe you have heard of this nefarious underworld organization:  American Girl.  The clothes for a DOLL cost more than my daughter’s own clothes.  The GIRL’S matching outfits cost more than MY own clothes and the dolls themselves cost $100.  You can buy a REAL CHILD a bed cheaper than the doll.

Now, here is the surreal part, they have salon services for your DOLL.  Yea, you heard me.  For $14, you can get your dolls ears pierced and take home a “Tip Sheet” for at-home care… do these crazies know this thing is plastic?  They have printed information on how to avoid an ear infection?  I have a tip for you… HAVE PLASTIC EARS.  Being made of plastic is a sure-fire way to avoid an infection of any kind.

If that is not insult enough to an intelligent being, they also offer a “spa” package where your doll’s plastic, inanimate face gets a facial scrub and goes home with cucumber eye stickers, nail decals, flip flips and a salon cape… plus a “skincare” tip sheet… I know the doll is pricey but it is not made from actual human skin is it?  Man, that would be GROSS.

And there is the normal every day stuff… the Beatles-like ticket prices for Sesame Street Live, Dora Live, The Backyardigans, Disney (again) on Ice, Ringling Brothers…then after the privilege of paying $40 a ticket to see some high school theater drop-out prance around in a costume made from a living room rug, you get to buy a soccer ball, t-shirt, light saber or shaved ice in a souvenir cup for TWENTY DOLLARS.

And to all you self-righteous folks out there who tell me to exert some authority, put my foot down, be an adult, tell my child “no” or any other nonsense… walk a mile in my shoes, brothers and sisters… walk a mile in my shoes… and be sure to take some band aids for the blisters.

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About reneadijab

Renea Dijab

View all posts by reneadijab

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