Monday, September 7, 2009

Those Mothers Are Crazy.

I spent part of my Labor Day (after cutting grass and grilling the South, barbecue is something you eat, not something you do) watching a program recommended by my son's sweet wife, called "Toddlers and Tiaras". I learned at least one thing from watching it.

Those mothers are crazy.

They take children (as young as two weeks in one episode), dress 'em up ("glitz" and "glam" in pedo-pageant lingo), then parade 'em around in various "competitions".

The two-week old was a boy. Yes, he won his age division.

The contestants use it all--teeth caps, spray-on tans, $3,000-and-up dresses, etc. You get the picture. Too bad the mamas don't.

Living vicariously is one thing. This stuff is in a universe all its own.

Mothers promoting one child over another. Kids throwing tantrums (which kids will do) only to smile widely when they're onstage to impress the judges, all of which looked to book out at around 300 pounds and 60 years old.

Then there are the prizes. Crowns, of course, crowns everywhere and for every imaginable competition. There's the Talent competition, the Wear-Whatever-You-Want-To competition, and yes, even a Swimsuit competition. For three- to five-year-olds.

But the biggest of all is the Ultimate Grand Extreme Supreme Significant Incomparable Queen of the Universe award for, well, winning it all. I am not making this up. That's what it's called.

I'll settle for Guilty As Charged, Sentenced To Jail Time for all the moms (if you can call them that) who submit their little ones to this travesty.

Those mothers (and you know what I mean) are crazy.


bella said...

we watched that today... they are insane. remember that one time yall put me in a pageant?

Michael Ruffin said...

When my son was in high school he came in second place in a male beauty pageant--you know, the kind where the guys dress up like girls--that was held as part of a fund-raiser for a local charity.

The winner was a dog; my kid got ripped off.

Our minister of music told our daughter, "Sara, you're a pretty girl--but your brother is hot!"

For what it's worth, his wig and dress were borrowed; we sank maybe a dollar in the makeup.

And that was the beginning and end of our family's pageant experiences.