I am overwhelmed by the sheer volume of crap that’s being advertised on TV for children this Christmas.
In between Peppa Pig and Toby’s Travelling Circus, there is a stream of not-so-subliminal messages telling my daughter how much happier she’d be if she was the proud owner of a whole heap of brightly coloured, plastic landfill debris.
From princess dresses made with material so cheap that you can’t stand anywhere near an open flame, to Barbie dolls complete with handbag, dogs that shit and an accompanying pooper-scooper accessory, with the strapline ‘Anything is possible’.
Luckily, my daughter is just a tad too young to realise that she is the target audience and they’re trying to sell her stuff. She watches with frustration while complaining, ‘We’ve seen this programme, mummy.’
Her list for Father Christmas is innocently short.
She wants a pink yoyo and a packet of Smarties. Oh, and a green yoyo for her baby brother for when he’s older.
Although I feel like Fagin in the festive cheer stakes, I’m just going to suck it up this year.
I can’t imagine there are going to be too many more Christmases when I can trade good behaviour for a present so small that they don’t even charge P and P for delivery on Amazon.
Don’t miss the next You Can Take Her Home Now post: