Making the Baby Stupid

In my mind, the world is divided among:
--People who have their televisions in the living room (Inferior People)
--People who have their TVs tucked discreetly away in a sometimes/special-occasion place (Superior People)
--People who (gasp) don't own televisions (Exceptional People...with Whom I Would Have Almost Nothing to Discuss).

I like to blame Jason for the fact that we are Inferior People, but it is doutbful that I would be sitting around reading Baudelaire in the original French even if he didn't want to watch the Simpsons. While I have accepted this about us, I want more for Lucy. I want her to be an Exceptional Person, a charming, modest genius who blithely says, between sips of her non-alcoholic beverage, "Oh, it's a television show? I don't have a TV." But not in the annoying way people often say that.

And yet, Lu lives at our house, the home of Inferior People (at least one of whom feels really bad about it). She already has a favorite show, one aimed expressly at her: "Teletubbies." It's a sweet but bizarre British public TV program about childlike alien creatures. They hug and squeak and run around a lot, and they're ruled by this eery sun-god with a baby's face. Lucy is mesmerized by this show -- she claps and squeals like she's hearing her own lost language.

It both delights and horrifies me how much she enjoys the Teletubbies. I think, it's on PBS, how can it be evil? Does it really matter if we say goodbye to Baudelaire in French before she can even speak English?