After all, we could have our own reality show on the Lifetime network proving it.
Of late, my tweenage daughter Li’l Diva(formerly known to all you as Thing 1) has been subjecting me to DVR marathons of her two favorite shows: Toddlers and Tiaras and Dance Moms. We've had a few talks about the kid, in particular -- young girl, exploitation on both of these ratings winners and, despite that recent F in Spanish, my daughter is bright enough to recognize the ridiculousness and evil extremes shown on these shows. She has been sucked into the cartoonish over-the-top drama of all overbearing moronic adults (um, nearly all mothers -- just stating the facts) and nothing more, she says.
"So how do you think I would do if I was on Dance Moms," I asked, which is apropos because she has been taking dance for the past 7 years. For first several of them, I'd hang out with the estrogen set during lessons, mostly drinking coffee and reading the newspaper because they would never talk to me. Must have been my cooties.
"You wouldn't last," she said. "You get mad too easily. You'd be angry at the teacher and the other moms and you'd pull me out of there pretty fast."
So wise, my daughter. If only she'd rinse her plates and put them in the dishwasher, she'd be perfect.
Whenever I've watched Dance Moms with her, my reaction to said moms constantly bitchin' and moanin' about the dance teacher's constant bitchin' and moanin', the questionable taste in costumes and routines, the apparent favoritism, and the snarky backstabbing and sniping at each has been the same: