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Thanks, 'Fuller House,' for Making Me the A**hole

The Huffington Post The Huffington Post 3/03/2016 Shannon Day

Why, Fuller House?
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 the fact that Stephanie's boobs threatened to break free at any moment, your first episode was fine, I guess...
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 (and her genuinely impressive legs and cleavage) and Steph (who expertly modeled to my 6 and 8-year-old girls 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 husband. 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, obviously, 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!"
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 G-rated family show.
I'm the jerk here, who is currently being given the stink eye by my middle daughter, who I simply want to shelter from at least some of the constant barrage of anti-feminist, overly-sexualized messages that the media presents daily. I really feel like we, as parents, have become too complacent and too relaxed with what we accept as "the norm." I absolutely include myself in this statement! There are lots of times when the kids have the TV on and I'm not in there, therefore not fully aware of what they're watching. I simply put my trust in the idea that it's a G-rated show. Yet, so often these shows are filled with messages of a shallow and materialistic nature.
I am not always hardcore like this but Fuller House, in particular episode three, brought out my protective side. The side that questions the constant onslaught of unhealthy messages being fed to our young boys and girls. The side that is pissed off by how often such messages objectify women and belittle their self-worth. The feminist side of me, that my mother modeled, and that I hope to pass on to my daughters.
Someday, I will tell my daughters to always have a purse with their own money in it, and to buy your 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 again and again, you don't go back to him 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 (though I hope they'll have better taste). But now is absolutely not the time!
So thanks, Fuller House, for making me the asshole...

This post originally ran on Martinis & Motherhood.
2015-06-22-1434938464-8850037-3DBook.jpg © Provided by The Huffington Post 2015-06-22-1434938464-8850037-3DBook.jpg Did you know that Shannon Day and 36 other fab writers have created a book for moms? Well, it's actually a martini guide too! If you like funny, ridiculous, and heartstring-tugging stories of motherhood (+ easy-to-make martini & mocktini recipes) then you'll love Martinis & Motherhood: Tales of Wonder, Woe & WTF?!


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