Gratuitous Domestic Posting (TM)

As the Missus was off indulging herself in Shakespeare last evening, it fell upon Self to retrieve the Llama-ettes from school, where they had been freeloading off of the pre-performance pizza party of the Missus' class, take them home and put them into the bedtime circuit.

As they were plashing about in the bathtub, the five year old suddenly requested that I sing the Oompa-Loompa song. This puzzled me, slightly, as she has always disliked the song. I taxed her with this, to which she simply replied, "Well, I like it now." So I sang. I don't remember many of the verses all that well, but it's remarkable how long one can keep up simply ad-libbing the "oompa, loompa, doompadeedoo" bit.

Anyhoo, this led to a more general discussion of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. I always enjoy these conversations because they provide the perfect platform to hammer home lessons about greed and gluttony. (I always put on my Dad-ish, "Well, and look what happened to those naughty little girls and boys" manner when talking about the fate of Charlie's fellow guests.) We ran through the downfalls of the various undeserving children, speculating idly about what happened to Augustus after he came unstuck in the tube and where Mike Teevee had to be taken to be made full-sized again. But as is always the case, the conversation finally settled very firmly on Veruca Salt.

My seven year old has a deep-seated hatred of Veruca. The business about her father turning over his army of factory slaves to hunt for golden tickets particularly infuriates her. I've always thought this was a good thing. If Veruca is the very model of the Spoiled Brat, then surely it's healthy for the Llama-ettes to develop a distain for her. But last evening, I was reminded that even when the ship is sailing on a wind, you still have to navigate carefully.

"Veruca is bad," said the gel, "because she's rich."

Whaaaaa-? Class warfare in the Butcher's House? Not on my watch.

"No, Sweety, there's nothing wrong with being rich," I said as brightly as possible, "Veruca's problem is that she thinks being rich makes her better than anyone else. And her other problem is that she's not grateful for what she has - no matter how many nice things she gets, all she wants is more." I also pointed out that Willy Wonka himself was very rich, but he was also very good.

She thought about that one for a few minutes. The signal that I had successfully sheered off from this egalitarian danger came when she dropped the subject and went on to the topic of Wonka's curious office with all of its cut-in-half-furniture and decorations. But even then, it wasn't smooth sailing yet - she suddenly got on the question of whether Wonka's potty was similarly constructed and speculated about the mess that would be made if he ever tried to use it. For what it's worth, they all thought that was very funny.

The Scylla of Marxist cant or the Charybdis of potty humor? Sometimes there are no easy choices for a parent.

YIPS from Steve: I always had the same thought too, in addition the sink and the fridge as well...