My husband and I are horrible, horrible people.
We decided to show the girls Alvin and the Chipmunks Chipmunks' Christmas today. Let me preface this with some back story: I ADORE this movie. I have watched it since childhood. It came out in 1981; as I was born in 1980, I have quite literally grown up with this movie. My dad had the soundtrack to it on cassette, and he used to play it to my brother and I during the Christmas season (this was a bargaining chip -- if we didn't do our chores or if we were fighting in the backseat, we didn't get to listen to it; smart parenting on my dad's behalf). We broke this tape from continual play. However, it fell by the wayside as I entered into my teenage years, and it has now resurfaced with the advent of my own two children thus far.
And now, Alvin and his cohorts have fallen prey to the inevitable: the vicious, merciless commentary of my husband and I. It started off innocently enough: my husband and I noticed a plot hole. How could little Tommy be so sick, and yet a simple harmonica completely cures him? This is what it sounded like:
Jeremy: I didn't realize that a harmonica could cure T.B.
Me: Maybe his mom had Munchhausen By Proxy.
Jeremy: Harmonicas don't cure cancer. *mimics Tommy's sister* What do you mean, Tommy won't make what through Christmas? Christmas cookies? Dyalysis? *mimics loving, sad mother* Because we can't afford Tommy's chemo. *back to his normal voice* I think Tommy's faking it to get a harmonica.
Me: Ever notice that the 80s seemed to have this vendetta against parental authority? Seriously, they blow off Dave and then it's up to the kids to save the day. It's saying that adults know nothing. That was a running theme throughout that decade!
Jeremy: You know, Dave is kind of a jerk.
Me: He's a stage dad. He's supposed to be a doofus.
Jeremy: What's with all the rampant consumerism? And they're always working -- aren't there child labor laws?
Me: It doesn't apply to chipmunks. Just don't tell PETA.
Jeremy: *snerk, mimics Tommy's voice* Mawmmy, now that I have a harmanicaw, we can get my lisssssp fissed for Chwismas!
All the while, Sophia has watched it patiently with tunnel vision. Molly's been relatively indifferent, but then again, she's only 10 months old. We are evil, terrible people, ripping apart a children's show like that. But then again, it brought it on itself.