Why, Fuller House?
WHY?!
We were all so excited about your arrival! After all, we’d been watching your old ‘90s re-runs for months in anticipation of your reunion.
And then, the moment arrived.
“Mom! MOM! Fuller House is here!” My middle daughter shouted with excitement.
So, of course, we made popcorn and we got out the chocolate and the candy.
We. Were. Ready.
All cuddled up together, on the couch, we pressed: PLAY.
With the exception of Uncle Jesse’s semen joke, and few other inappropriate remarks, your first episode was fine. I liked it, because I wanted to like it, and we carried on watching.
But by episode three, the ladies of your G-rated show, were hitting a nightclub. “Bar Star” Kimmy, DJ (+ her genuinely impressive legs and cleavage) and Steph (who expertly modeled to my 6, 8 and 11-year olds how to get drinks without spending a dime) danced the night away, fueled by tequila, with letchy men they’d just met.
During this episode, Kimmy shows my daughters what to do if you face your cheating, soon-to-be ex. You start by dancing seductively with him, of course! Until his new, younger, girlfriend arrives and insults you. You then must show your ex, and his young lover, that you’ve still got it! So, you do a lesbian dance to I’ve Had the Time of My Life, with your BFF. BOOM take that Fernando! “Nobody puts the Gibbler in the corner!” You sure showed him, Kimmy!
I mean, this is just what every 6 year-old girl needs to be watching on a Friday night while munching popcorn in her Hello Kitty pajamas, right?
So, thanks Fuller House. Thanks a lot. Because now, I’m the asshole that has to pull the plug on your family show.
I’m the jerk here. I’m the one who is currently being given the stink eye by my middle daughter, because I simply want to shelter from at least some of the constant barrage of anti-feminist, overly-sexual messages that the media presents daily.
Someday, I will tell my daughters to always have a purse with their own money in it, and to buy their own drinks. But now is not the time!
Someday, I’ll happily suggest that an outfit for a night out might feature a bit of cleavage OR a bit of leg, in my old school opinion. Not both. But now is not the time!
Someday, I’ll explain that when someone cheats on you, you don’t go back to him over and over because if a person loves you, if he truly cherishes you as you deserve to be cherished, then he wouldn’t cheat on you in the first place. But now is not the time!
Someday, this show might be appropriate for my daughters to watch. But now is not the time!
So damn you, Fuller House, for making me the asshole!
(This post originally ran on Martinis & Motherhood)
