Don't worry. No living creatures were injured in the writing of this post. Though I have been rightly accused, to my face, of being a MEAN Mom, I wouldn't go taking my aggressions out on the Milton Zoo inhabitants.
I was aiming for the blasted TV.
I let the kids cozy up to the thing for an afternoon, and I have been paying for it ever since this lapse in judgement. They want to marry it. They want to live in sin with it. They want to hug and kiss and fondle it. Or in a pinch, the remote. They want to raise a litter of remote controls.
I told them to dream on. And go find a book.
It worked. I may just unplug the thing.
TV no+TV suburbs motherhood