While George was ill, Luke and Evie were basically neglected children. Don't get me wrong, they were fed and clothed, but there was no entertainment available from Chuck or me since we were rocking, pacing, feeding, medicating or trying to calm George for four days straight. Instead, we kept a constant supply of videos running on TV for Luke and Evie until they would beg for Noggin. (I love Noggin, but the shows get so old. Chuck and I have the intro theme song to all the shows memorized and they get stuck in our heads until you see us at work singing, "Max and Ruby . . . Ruby and Max . . . Ruby and her little brother Max . . ." or "The phone, the phone is ringing . . . " You get the picture, and if you've ever been subjected to Noggin on a repeated basis you'll know exactly what shows I'm talking about and probably cringe knowing that one or both of these songs will be stuck in your head today. I digress.)
Anyhoo, that week Chuck put a previously Tivo'ed noggin show on the TV one evening while I was out - (I can't even remember where I was) - and near the end of the show, Chuck took George up to his bedroom and got him ready for bed and put him down. About fifteen minutes later he came down to find that Luke and Evie's show had ended and regular television had turned back on. The TV was on CBS and one of the CSI shows was on. (Yes, I'm cringing too.) The timing worked so that the kids apparently saw the first 10 minutes of the show - you know, the part that shows the gruesome, violent, disgusting, scary crime where one or more persons is is killed? Yeah, my kids saw that. Luke looked at Chuck and said with all seriousness, "Dad, this is not a good show. People die!" Chuck quickly found the remote control and switched the station, but the damage was done.
Soooo, Chuck and I are establishing a mental health fund for our children now. If you are interested in contributing, please let me know. I anticipate years of therapy ahead of them, and not just for this reason.