There we were, sitting on the couch, watching Cloris Leachman shake her stale bon-bons (they've traveled so far from where they started). And then we watched the commercials.
Mostly, it's the commercials that make me have crazy eyes, because they are so ridiculously far-fetched. I can point out at least one, if not twelve, reasons a commercial is not believable.
The one that really got me was for kid-proof electronic thingys from Fisher-Price. (I have a reader or two who are actually employees of Fisher-Price...hiya, gals!) One of the scenarios was the three year-old girl with excessively long piggytails taking a picture of a goldfish in a bowl. A very nearly spherical bowl, with not a very large opening in the top of the bowl. And the girl? Well DUH!, she drops the camera into the fishbowl.
That would never happen like that.
?????????
Don't look at me like that! That kid would never be able to drop the camera face-first into the fishbowl. The hole isn't big enough for the camera to just slip in like that.
??????????
I have a problem.
What? You don't have any Samoa ice cream in that bowl?
Awesome. My lack of ice cream, instead of being viewed as a positive health choice for me and our baby, is now construed as a character flaw.
????????????
Well, don't just sit there, letting me languish in my flaws. Build me up, Buttercup!
????????? (While going to fetch some Edy's Girl Scout Mama Lovin' Samoa Cookie Ice Cream)
He came back with two bowls. One for him, one for me. Unfortunately? Not two for me. It's okay, though, I'm here all day. I can have ice cream whenever I want, even when he has to interrupt his lunch to heft around some dead people in big plastic bags. (What? Oh, hi, Babe. That's right! You *DO* read this! I love you a lot!)
Busy dissecting the commercial I was watching, I didn't pay any attention to the ice cream for about five minutes. Wha-at? I know. Commercials aren't that long, but the PICTURES!!!! WERE!!!! MOVING!!!! ON!!!! THE!!!! SCREEN!!!!
I picked up my spoon, and gazed lovingly down at my bowl of superyum. I was jolted to the reality of three teensytinynearlynonexistant pieces of ice cream.
Well, for somebody eager to point out my flaws, you're not really eager to help me overcome them, are you?
It's called Portion Control. And it's because I love you.
He said. When he finished rolling his eyes.
Mostly, it's the commercials that make me have crazy eyes, because they are so ridiculously far-fetched. I can point out at least one, if not twelve, reasons a commercial is not believable.
The one that really got me was for kid-proof electronic thingys from Fisher-Price. (I have a reader or two who are actually employees of Fisher-Price...hiya, gals!) One of the scenarios was the three year-old girl with excessively long piggytails taking a picture of a goldfish in a bowl. A very nearly spherical bowl, with not a very large opening in the top of the bowl. And the girl? Well DUH!, she drops the camera into the fishbowl.
That would never happen like that.
?????????
Don't look at me like that! That kid would never be able to drop the camera face-first into the fishbowl. The hole isn't big enough for the camera to just slip in like that.
??????????
I have a problem.
What? You don't have any Samoa ice cream in that bowl?
Awesome. My lack of ice cream, instead of being viewed as a positive health choice for me and our baby, is now construed as a character flaw.
????????????
Well, don't just sit there, letting me languish in my flaws. Build me up, Buttercup!
????????? (While going to fetch some Edy's Girl Scout Mama Lovin' Samoa Cookie Ice Cream)
He came back with two bowls. One for him, one for me. Unfortunately? Not two for me. It's okay, though, I'm here all day. I can have ice cream whenever I want, even when he has to interrupt his lunch to heft around some dead people in big plastic bags. (What? Oh, hi, Babe. That's right! You *DO* read this! I love you a lot!)
Busy dissecting the commercial I was watching, I didn't pay any attention to the ice cream for about five minutes. Wha-at? I know. Commercials aren't that long, but the PICTURES!!!! WERE!!!! MOVING!!!! ON!!!! THE!!!! SCREEN!!!!
I picked up my spoon, and gazed lovingly down at my bowl of superyum. I was jolted to the reality of three teensytinynearlynonexistant pieces of ice cream.
Well, for somebody eager to point out my flaws, you're not really eager to help me overcome them, are you?
It's called Portion Control. And it's because I love you.
He said. When he finished rolling his eyes.
Portion control. I hate that.
ReplyDeleteah...my father could be famous for that--it never fails when he is dishing out ice cream that his bowl is heaping huge heavenly and my mother's has a hard time locating her ice cream underneath the spoon. men!
ReplyDeleteOMG...there's ice cream made with the Samoa GS cookies? Must.Find.
ReplyDeleteYou two are hilarious. I want to come visit. ;-)
ReplyDeletewhat about the fisher price toys?
ReplyDeleteWhat do you mean, what about the FP toys? I'm sure they're fine. I was just getting my undies in a bunch because of the commercial.
ReplyDeleteYeah. I don't like it either. I was trying the commentLuv dealio, but it's not as good as on wordpress-based blogs.
ReplyDeleteAnd that last comment of mine, which seems to be totally apropos of nothing, was really in response to The Mister complaining about the comment form I installed for about twenty minutes yesterday.
ReplyDeleteportion control?? PORTION CONTROL!?!?!
ReplyDeletei vote you inflict some portion control on The Mister...
and yeah, Melissa? you been living under a rock girl?? I cried for you a little to know that you have not had GS cookie ice cream... Made by Dreyers/Edys.. go.get.some.