It’s no secret that I enjoy TV that horrifies me. Aghast and appalled are such delicious feelings, n'est-ce pas? I was watching American Idol when it occurred to me that if I were the sort of person to whom fame was a concern, my baby could be on that show in 16 years. That’s not very long. I clearly remember what I was up to 16 years ago (and if you can’t, perhaps you’re too young to read this blog.)
With a shudder of evil delight, I tracked that my baby could be on Toddlers and Tiaras in less than four years (because for maximum horror potential, the child should be a veteran pageant competitor by age three.) Have you seen the show? I hope you have. They feed the children Coke, coffee, and line after line of Pixie Stix. Drugged with legal substances! Children who are spray-tanned and have manicures! Exhausted toddlers who can't cope with the pressure being forced by their parents to walk on a stage and/or get yelled at! Toddlers who repulsively yell at their moms (and whose moms actually take it!) Moms who call their babies "divas" without a trace of irony!
But wait! At this very moment, I should be preparing for my I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant appearance! That’s the show where women try to convince you that they did not know they were pregnant until they had their baby in their pants. While they are trying to convince you of one of the least likely possibilities ever, actors stage reenactments that sometimes even include the actual 9-11 call (because the women always think they are dying. Joke's on you; it's a baby! A baby that will try to kill you someday anyway.)
Stacey suggested a chair lift above a ski resort. What a killer TV reenactment that would make! The actress who plays me, stranded on a chair lift, surrounded by sweeping vistas, terrified unrelated tweens next to her, horrified skiers below, a shot of something red dripping onto the snow. Wicked reader Sarah suggested the Olive Garden. “Welp, I thought it was just the fra diavolo sauce actin’ up, or that the breadsticks were disgreein’ with me. Turns out I gave birth to the kid right there, at table 38, the waiter caught it.”
I’m hoping for a reenactment that has the actress vaguely beached; surrounded by empty bags of CornNuts, boxes of Totino’s Party Pizza, and 2 Liter bottles in various states of drainage. “I thought I’d just overdone it on the Mountain Dew and pizza rolls, and needed to poop real bad.”
The reality possibilities are endless!