The Commercialization of Jack

When I think of all those adman on Madison Avenue creating their ad campaigns for all those new "As Seen on TV" products, I imagine that hanging on their conference room walls is a humongous picture of my son Jack. I swear, every product hawked on TV Jack insists we absolutely need. I think the popularity of the "SHAM WOW" had less to do with the crazy guy on the commercial and more to do with the fact that Jack couldn't stop talking about it to everyone he met--in church, in Shop Rite, in the mall, in the liquor store (hey! don't judge!). Being a magician-in-training, the SHAM WOW was nothing less than magical to Jack's then 5-year-old-eyes.

This morning, I heard Jack's little feet padding down the stairs at 7:30am. "Thank God he can turn the TV on by himself," I thought as I rolled over to the cool side of the sheets only to be greeted with a tongue in my eye. Thinking it was my husband I grumpily pushed him away thinking, "You have to be kidding me!" but as I pushed, I felt all the fur and realized it was my dog violating my eye, so I pulled her closer to me so she could violate my other eye. (Look, I didn't want the damn dog, but when everyone else lost interest in her newness she became my ward and I have grown to love this scary hairy mutt to the point that when she dies I'm having her stuffed and I'm walking around town with her! But that's for another blog!)

While in the deep REM's of a dream that involved me on some beach alone (!) my son's finger tapped away on my shoulder. Still half in the dream and half coming out of it I thought it was the cabana boy coming to replenish my drink. It was not the cabana boy it was Jack excitedly telling me that he wants soft beautiful feet and he wanted my credit card so he could order the Pedi-egg. Whether it was exhaustion or shock, I was speechless. He kept trying to convince me that we'd get a lot of use out of it--his feet, my feet, daddy's feet, Katies feet, even the dog. "We'd be the soft- beautiful-feet family at the pool!" he exclaimed.

You have to understand, I've lived through the Slap Chop ("Look mom, we can make egg salad for breakfast!") the Fanny Lifter ("Mom, look--I do have a flat fanny--do you want the kids to laugh at me at the pool?"), the Ab Away ("Mom, I'm doing this for you--you really need to do something about that stomach!"), the Fasta Pasta ("If you got the Ab Away you could eat the Fasta Pasta every night!"), The Forearm Forklift ("Daddy can move anything with no excuses now!"), the Go Duster ("Mom, now you have no excuse!") and so much more.

When he was three-years old I walked up from the laundry room to find him on the phone and in the process of ordering The Shower Stick (for that all-over full-body shower experience!) Clearly Jack had been on the phone for at least a few minutes so I grabbed the phone out of his hand and started screaming at the telemarketer. I asked him what was wrong with him engaging a three-year-old -- he should know better! He responded by telling me that if I was a more observant mother, my son would not have dialed the phone nor would he be watching commercials if I took him outside more. "Bastard!" I yelled as I slammed the phone down, knowing full well he was right.

So now it's 8:30 on a Saturday morning and my son wants the soft beautiful feet that only a Pedi-egg can give. Maybe it's time to make breakfast and go to the playground.