Bad Parenting 101

Joey and I spent Saturday afternoon at Target buying storage shelves and bins in hopes to better organize our 900 square foot apartment.

We arrived home and were eager to get started. Joey went to work installing a laundry-room shelf, constructing a piece of furniture for his closet and then we both went to work on the dreaded storage room.

I had the brilliant idea to distract Owen with a movie. Joey suggested something different - not the typical Baby Einstein video Owen usually watches. We browsed through our limited video library and found the original Shrek movie - the closest thing to a children's movie we had. I popped it into the VCR, fast forwarded to hear the famous Smashmouth theme and walked out of the room.

Joey and I went to work dragging the piles of "stuff" out of our storage room and stacking it floor-to-ceiling high in our hallway. Not two minutes had gone by when I heard Owen's "I am in trouble and I desperately need your help" cry. I worked my way through the labyrinth of junk and found him 10 inches from the TV screen, sobbing with one finger pointing at the screen. There was Shrek, being hunted in the night by a group of men with pitchforks. They didn't hesitate to cut to the chase in this movie (a scene that had obviously slipped from my memory). Poor Shrek. Poor Owen.

I quickly scooped Owen into my arms, reassured him that Shrek was okay and turned off the movie. Maybe I should write a book on appropriate movies for toddlers or a book called "Bad Parenting 101."