JERRY

Benjamin has just recently been introduced to a timeless classic…Tom & Jerry. While I love the old school cartoons kicking a comeback, I did not recollect from my childhood watching days all the violence.

I walked through the living room the other day carrying a pile of 2-day old laundry that had been just sitting in the dryer and saw Benjamin watching poor Tom getting shaved down to his skin by a fat man with a samurai sword. YIKES! While I retrace my steps for the third time to clean up the trail of tiny socks and Paw Patrol underpants, my toddler is laughing hysterically as Tom’s skin is now being essentially removed from his own body and fashioned into a bonnet atop his own head.

When I finally had the chance to get “American Girl” out of my head (thanks Silence of the Lambs for the skin suit image) I pounced on the remote and explained to Ben that Tom & Jerry had to go “night night.” At this age I either have to bribe Benjamin with something sweet or convince him objects went to sleep in an effort to avoid a total meltdown.

This trick seemed to work until my husband decided it would be funny to instigate the situation by pointing to random objects in and around the house and call them “Jerry.” The little Jurassic Park Jeep-driving Lego man… “Jerry.” Mr. Potato Head… “Jerry.” The deer that have taken up permanent residence in our yard that Ben visits in the morning… “Jerry.” Now, everybody is a Jerry which reminds Benjamin that he wants to watch…Tom & Jerry. Mom life.

Jerry

 

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