Every few days I put The Boy in front of my laptop and show him a few minutes of Sesame Street or old school School House Rock while I cut his nails. Each time he's mesmerized. This has been the extent of his media consumption so far but it’s been enough to make him ravenously excited when he sees me open my laptop.
The Boy is not a very fast crawler in general. In fact, he seems oddly deliberate and aware of his body when he moves - kind of like a Great Dane (which is why they make such good apartment dogs). Anyway, apparently he saves his fastest crawling for the moments he spots my open laptop. And he never sounds more desperate in these moments either. If I’m at the table trying to work (ie Google: roasted carrots) I’ll soon find him whining at my feet with his arms desperately stretched upward. He’s really not that kid so it’s particularly disturbing to see him transform in these moments. I'm not gonna say he acts like a crack head but I'm not not gonna say it either. Come by some time and open my laptop and see what you think.
Anyway tonight was particularly disturbing. I was reading this article on the death of Qaddafi. The writer argued that dictators get the deaths they deserve: "...if a tyrant is executed while crying for mercy in the dust, then that, too, is a reflection of the nature of a fallen regime and the reaction of an oppressed people." I couldn't help but think there was truth to that since Saddam was found in a hole in the ground and Qaddafi was pulled from a storm drain bloodied and begging for his life. Anyway, the article convinced me to watch the video of his capture. It’s a frenzied, bloody affair. I won’t link it here. It’s easy enough to find.
It's shot on a cell phone I think. The sun is shining brightly as you see close ups of arms and legs and you can hear machine gun fire and shouting and Qaddafi’s dazed, bloodied face occasionally enters the frame. It was sickening but I was glad I was watching it since I sometimes feel like the world is changing while I’m changing diapers. It made it more real for me.
But then The Boy appeared in the doorway like a curious puppy. He saw me at the laptop and his eyes widened. On the screen in front of me, Qaddafi’s bloody face appeared for a moment and then a flash of sunlight. The Boy scurried over and pulled himself up by the bed, whining and whimpering for a session of School House Rock while men shouted and dragged Qaddafi toward his fate. I shut the computer and The Wife took The Boy away for his bedtime rituals.
After he was gone, I breathed a little easier. And then, I couldn’t help it - I opened the laptop back up and watched one of his favorites.