“All that I know most surely about morality and obligations, I owe to football”
– Albert Camus
“All that we know most surely about brattishness and insubordination, we owe to Peppa Pig”
– Dylan and Xander
I’m only a week and a bit into my inter-job existence and there’s something that’s already starting to grind. It’s not the fact that people hardly ever respond to those who apply for jobs; I take that as an unfortunate given in this day and age. Neither is it the worry about being able to feed the family and keep a roof over our heads; it’s okay, I’ve got this! Nope, it’s an anthropomorphic porcine. In other words, I’m sick to the back teeth of Peppa Pig.
All the little things that ired me about this brattish little oik when I didn’t have to see it as often have been amplified ten fold. The fact that Daddy Pig – and a good number of the other adult male characters, actually – is a feckless figure of fun annoys me, the irritating jolliness of the theme tune is getting on my nerves and there are only actually about two hours a day in which it isn’t on. But the thing that’s most bothersome are some of the things that Dylan and Xander have picked up from watching it.
I know that kids are kids and are inevitably going to learn bad habits somewhere or other – including from me – but it has to be said that, more than most irritating cartoon characters, Peppa is a little shit. Here are four things that my two have learned from her:
She can’t help herself – she’s always talking down to her parents. So are Dylan and Xander now.
Saying things were “a bit funny”
No, Dylan. If I stub my toe and hop about on the spot in agony, it’s not fucking funny.
Jumping in muddy puddles
Okay, Xander, first time was cute, but you and I are both running out of clean trousers now.
Bouncing on my stomach
Both of you; I’m not a bouncy castle and Daddy Pig is a complete dickhead for letting his kids and all their friends do this to him. Ruptured spleens are so over rated.
I’ll have my revenge – we’re having sausages for dinner tonight…