The Consumer Culture of Parenting
2005

“Have some of these, honey, they’re yummy,” a friend of mine said to his daughter the other day. He was holding up a plastic baggie filled with carrot sticks and jiggling them seductively, a huge fake grin pasted on his face.

Fat chance, Bozo, read the little girl’s face. See, she knew that hidden somewhere underneath those pathetic carrots, way down deep in the lunch pail, was a plastic baggie of Oreos.

“They’re good for you”, he insisted. She stuck her nose up even further and had a look in her eye that could probably bring an angry bull to his knees.

“They’re good for your eyes”, I chimed in. (I remembered somebody telling me that when I was in the elementary school cafeteria and I was sticking my own nose up at “carrot pennies.”) The little girl looked at me as if to say “you’re lying.” I was so ashamed. “Well, I’m pretty sure it’s true to some degree,” I said like a wimp.

The dad looked crestfallen. He resorted to eating a carrot himself and acting as if it were the yummiest thing he’d ever tasted. The little girl looked at him with complete contempt. He tried negotiating one carrot stick for one Oreo. Then it was down to just one bite for one Oreo. Then it was one bite of carrot for the entire bag of Oreos. I could’ve sworn he was about to get down on his knees and beg. Until finally, he gave up. The little girl grinned, danced off with her Oreos, perhaps enjoying them even more because they were hers at the expense of her dad’s dignity.

“I should’ve gotten a degree in marketing”, the dad said. “F the business degree I got. What the hell am I doing with that now anyway? Parenting is all about marketing. She didn’t eat the carrots because I didn’t sell her on them. Remember this moment, Jacooz. It’ll be you someday. Humbling yourself before your beloved child holding a goddamn bag of carrots.” His eyes gestured down to my pregnant belly.

That’s right, folks, in case you didn’t know, I’m pregnant. Please don’t tell Ben, I haven’t exactly told him yet and I’m not sure how he’s gonna take it. My poor little handyman/ex-beaux. He’s fragile, you know.

And so this little carrot incident got me thinking about parenting and how I will fare when I try to market life to my own kids. Life, that is, in terms of all those things that we’re supposed to love because they’re good for us. I know a bit about it already. In college I took care of a little boy and sometimes I felt like a regular ad executive while I was doing it. “Have some pasta and peas, they’re yummy, and the pasta’s shaped like wheels, and it’ll make you grow up big and strong like a big dinosaur!” or “Time to clean up your room now. Come on, it’s fun!” and I would launch into the “clean up” jingle that I learned from watching Barney videos with him. I had similar shams going in order to get him excited about taking baths, washing his hair, brushing his teeth, even wiping himself after going to the potty.

They were all lies. None of that stuff is any fun. What kind of nonsensical crap is that? Do I smile and sing while I’m vacuuming? Think again. Do I feel any glee whilst I scrub the toilet? Ewwww, no way, of course not! Tell you the truth, I don’t like brushing my teeth much either. Boring. So is shaving my legs. And grocery shopping. And doing laundry. Ugh, why don’t we just admit that some things in life are really a huge drag. But you have to do them anyway.

When I was little, my mother didn’t break into song and dance every time she wanted me to choke down a spoonful of cod liver oil or clean up my room. She just gave me a look that told me that if I didn’t do it, I would pay. Pay how? I have no idea. I was never stupid enough to find out. But what has changed since then? Kids don’t seem to feel any kind of threat or intimidation from parents anymore. Gone are the good old days where kids lived to avoid punishment. There doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of punishment now.

Maybe it’s because the consumer culture puts parents in a position where it’s them vs. the marketing Gods constantly. Getting through the supermarket without buying Sponge Bob crackers or Scooby Doo fruit snacks or Shrek popcorn or Blues Clues toothpaste is nearly impossible. Kids’ sneakers, apparel, bedding, and almost anything and everything that you buy for kids nowadays has a marketing tie in too. They eat, breathe, and sleep surrounded by the stuff. Even if you take away their access to the television, it gets through somehow.

And so you’re constantly trying to woo back the attention and the trust of your own child. You have to be MORE delightful than Dora the Explorer, and MORE seductive than the Disney Princesses. The impulse is to fall into a competing line of marketing bull when the real answer to the carrots vs. the Oreos question should be “Eat them because I said so. Because I know better than you. Because I know better than the television, and I know better than your friends, and better than the sign outside McDonald’s.”

But no kid is ever gonna buy that, are they?

Tell me what YOU think! Tawk to me at jacooz@bimbopolitics.com.