You Are Not A Cat

I saw the worst commercial tonight. Let me set the scene:

Saturday evening. I'm folding laundry while watching a Law and Order: SVU marathon. I'm wondering how many other soccer moms are watching SVU and folding laundry.

And then it happens. I notice that the commercial is talking to CAT PARENTS. "As a cat parent, you want the best for your cat. . . "

There is something about how there's wheat gluten in some brands of cat food. And chicken meal. And corn syrup. I realize that I've basically seen this commercial before, except it was for organic baby food.

For human babies, I mean.

Because cat parents are fucking cats and they don't watch Law and Order: SVU marathons.

Look, I grew up with cats. I've had cats. I like cats. Usually.

My parents spoil their current cats rotten. Like sometimes you will remove human food from their fridge and then be told not to eat it because they actually bought it for the cats. That's the level of devotion we're talking. And yet they don't call themselves CAT PARENTS.

Or even parents of cats, which would be slightly more correct.

Look, I have no problem with organic/healthy/whatever pet food. As long as you also buy organic for yourself and any human offspring you may have, of course.  I can even handle the place in my neighborhood that makes decorated cookies for pets. You can even get them personalized with your pet's name, because apparently if you love your cat enough, it learns to read. Or something.

When I was a single 30 year old woman with cats I did answer the question, "Do you have any kids?" with "Just my cats." But I smiled to let people know that I was joking. Because even though I didn't have any kids, I knew that being able to leave my cats alone all day meant I wasn't exactly parenting them. I knew that my cats, when ill, would hide until they felt better - unlike children. Or husbands. I knew that my cats did not care whether I bought them Christmas presents or just tossed some balled up paper on the floor - unlike children. I knew that I legally owned my cats - unlike children. I knew that I could force my cats to live with me until one of us died - unlike children (excluding those from very dysfunctional families). I knew that I would never have to teach my cats to write their names, dress themselves, read or any of the other approximately million things that parents have to teach little humans.

If you want to say that your pets are like your children, that's fine. If you want to say, "I could only mother cats", go right ahead. But you're not a "cat parent", okay? You're not a cat. And taking care of an animal, even if you are the most devoted pet owner in the world, is not the same as parenting.

Oh, and did I mention that the commercial showed only single women with their cats? No families, no men, no couples. Just single women calling themselves cat parents. Seriously. It was like a Saturday Night Live parody.

(It was for some product called, "Blue". Don't buy it.)

Maybe My TV Viewing Should Be Restricted

Today I am ticked off at Kelly Ripa. I don't want to pick on a fellow girl from Jersey (oh yeah, don't let the blonde perkiness fool you, she's from Jersey - so don't fuck with her), but those appliance commercials she does make me want to find Hot Guy's old paintball gun and shoot her. In the eye.

Generally, I like Kelly well enough. Anyone who was on Dance Party USA (I so wanted to be on that show) is going to have my affection. Even if she's a size 2 mother of three with like 7 jobs and oodles of money who plays up the whole ditz thing a little too much. But these appliance commercials are insulting MY intelligence and I don't play the ditz card. (I do not mean to say that I am never ditzy. Anyone who has ever seen me cook, drink more than 2 beers, or play a game that requires hand-eye coordination can attest to my ditziness. But I'm never playing. All my stupidity is real.)

Anyway, in case you're one of those people who never has to watch live TV anymore, the commercial or commercials (there may be more than 1 version) show Kelly rushing around a lovely home acting like she's a housewife who's busy life has been saved by using the appliances.

Who out there thinks that in addition to hosting with Regis and producing weird shows for TLC and maybe still being on All My Children (I have no idea about that one) and keeping her hot husband happy and hitting the gym for hours each day (I'm assuming) and spending time with her children that she takes the time out to do her family's laundry? Anyone? Bueller?

I don't know how much money she and her husband make. Possibly not as much as I'd thought, considering she's doing these stupid commercials. But still, I think she makes enough to have a cleaning lady. Or five.

And I don't have a problem with that.  Cleaning sucks (that's why I blog instead, after all). I will hire a cleaning lady of my own(maybe like Alice from Brady Bunch, but open about her sexuality) as soon as my blog starts making tons of money or I win the lottery. But I after I hire my cleaning lady, I will be changing the theme of my blog and I will NOT be posting about appliances. Because I won't be doing any fucking laundry.

So Kelly, do us all a favor. Tell the advertising team that we all know you're not really one of us and that you don't do your own laundry. You are a blonde from Jersey who appears on national television every day. Tell them to write you a believable commercial. Or else.