Having done our bit for the worship team, eaten a lunch we didn't have to prepare and taken a short jaunt around a farmer's market, we came home for a bit of good old fashioned tv lounging.
There has been a whole lot of nothing on lately, so we settled for Honey, We're Killing the Kids. I will admit to enjoying other TLC shows where the absolutely ordinary is celebrated beyond all semblance of reason. Often the subpar is given wild, panty-throwing cheers for inching imperceptable toward satisfactory. Love it.
This show just lowered the bar. The premise is fine, but here's the problem: a grown man is given Mr. Mom duty. That's right- a man living in America in our day & age (Hey- what do you call this decade, the zeroes? Aughts?) can become so utterly out of touch with his LIFE that he will be applauded for staying in with the kids for ONE VERKLARTE NIGHT. What is that wife thinking, raising such a sloth for a husband????
I have to think that J would not let this happen to him. Can you imagine a dad not knowing what books his kids like read to them EVERY night? Even if he ain't doing the Goodnighting of Moons, still- wouldn't he overhear, maybe even join in the cuddle once in a blue one?
But wait- ignore all of that. A new show just came on- Welcome to Fatland- where a resort has made itself comfortable for the morbidly obese. The show focused on a woman who coaches fat confidence and has written several books encouraging people to be happy with themselves at any weight. Fat liberation.
Self confidence, self esteem- how much more blatantly could these things worshipped? At what point was a wrong turn taken such that a health threat as serious as overweight is a source of pride?! Isn't taking pride in something that harms you an unmistakeable sign of self hatred?
Either way, TLC should be called TSC- The Surface Channel.
The last show (because I want to go to the gym now) is The 627 Pound Woman. Ironic that we were proofing vacation photos of us in the ocean that actually made me cry to see my own flabulousity while watching this poor woman's struggle to "feel human again".
On the heels of Welcome to Fatland, this show seemed worthy of Nobel-level praise. I was completely hooked. I literally prayed that she would survive.
Just kidding with this pic. Fun with my swim skirt dealy- looks like a tumor.
The only swimsuit-at-the-beach photo I will be posting on the internet for a while. Wheeee- look at those waves!
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