'What the Hell??!!'-Wednesdays

There are too many times in one's life when one feels the need to say, 'What the hell??!!'

I will keep it sugar-coated the rest of the week, but on Wednesdays I will let it all out. You know how you feel bloated after eating beans, or something milk-based if you are lactose intolerant, and you HAVE to fart to feel good. And once you do, it feels sooo good. On Wednesdays, dear readers, I will fart. Or burp. Whatever helps.


Have you ever seen what you make your kids watch on TV? Some of it is CRAP. Yes it is.

Take for instance an episode of Dora the Explorer. Yes, that little girl that is never home, going around the world with no adult supervision, on random adventures.

Baby Jaguar, who is Dora's cousin Diego's friend, (since we cannot call him his pet, God that would be so wrong) is hanging from a branch of a tree, and is about to fall into some thorns or something prickly and scary. Two other friends of Dora's are in trouble too at the same time on different locations. So ofcourse Dora and Boots (Dora's friend monkey) try to decide for what seems like a good half hour, which friend to help first.

Baby Jaguar is the lucky one to be picked first, and off they go. Now you would expect they would hurry the hell up, since the poor jaguar baby is hanging for his dear life, calling for help. But first Dora has to find a short cut.

And who do we ask for help when we don't know which way to go?

The map!

Now the silly song plays for a good five minutes, while Baby Jag is dangling in air.

I'm the map, I'm map. Okay yes we know, can you hurry it up please. You stupid son-of-a ... map.

They find a short cut, and are on it. Finally they reach the tree, but do they save the freaking, hanging jaguar? No.

They have to play games even at this crucial point in Baby Jag's life. Freaking arrange the pictures in the right order game.

Which picture comes first? Take the ladder out of the backpack. Give the ladder to Baby Jaguar. Or Baby Jaguar giving us a hug?

Take the ladder out of the freaking backpack. Take. It. Out. TAKE IT OUT NOW.

By this time, I am sitting at the edge of the seat, biting my nails, cursing out loud. Finally Baby Jaguar is safe. If I were him, I would have eaten both Dora and Boots right after their charade of a saving mission was accomplished.

I mean, what the hell??!!

Then there are Max and Ruby. Max is the most annoying kid you would ever come across. No, really. If you think your kid is annoying, or that a kid at a certain playdate was annoying, you have not seen Max. He communicates in words rather than sentences, repeats the same word all day long, and does not listen to anything his sister tells him to do. Yes I said sister. Because I have never seen their parents. Never.

Ruby the big sister, who keep in mind still sells girl scout cookies, takes care of Max. She feeds him, takes him for playdates, cleans up the house, does all the gardening, even changes his jammies a hundred times to puts him to bed. Without ever yelling at him. She talks in that honey-drenched tone that makes you want to punch her in the face. She is better than a lot of us Moms. And that is what makes her annoying.

How is it not child labor, I fail to understand. I mean where the hell are their parents??!!

Dimples loves Max and Ruby, but after I noticed that she had adopted Max's one-word language, I told her she is not dealing with no silly Ruby here. If Max was my kid, that one-word lingo would not have stayed for long. That kid would have gotten his ass whooped. But thankfully, Dimples understood. And no ass whooping took place.

And what the hell is up with Tigger and Pooh? I think both sound like pedophiles. Eww.