Last night I was dead tired and went to bed early. This morning I woke up ridiculously early and thought, “Well, now what?” Well, here’s what. I did mention it last week, after all. I fired up the Netflix and started watching Saturday morning cartoons.
No, there’s no Frosted Cocoa Bunches of Honey Golden Pebbles in the pantry. Nothing but various forms of high-fiber cereal. I may as well eat a whiskbroom every morning with how much fiber there is in my diet. So I got out the Shredded Wheat, dumped a bunch of brown sugar on it, and considered that a good-enough substitute for Fruity Maple Peanut Butter Marshmallowy Oaty Sugar Clusters. By which time the Blu-Ray player had finally loaded Netflix. (It’s slow.)
Watched Futurama. Nope, they never showed that on a Saturday morning. That’s the nice part about Netflix: I’m not limited to kids’ programming.
But for nostalgia’s sake—’cause I used to watch Super Friends or other assorted superhero shows as a kid—I watched a few episodes of Justice League Unlimited. That’s what Mom caught me doing when she finally poked her head in the room.
“What’re you watching?” she said.
“Saturday morning cartoons.”
“Saturday morning cartoons. There are no such things.”
“There are when you have Netflix.”
She watched the rest of that episode of Justice League, grumbling throughout. Mom grew up back when TV cartoons were simply awful. She hasn’t changed her mind about them since. Most Saturday morning shows gave her no reason to. So whenever she catches me watching cartoons, she grumbles. “Stupid. Ridiculous. That’s so hokey.” Like a little kid grumbling ’cause her parents are making her watch Lawrence Welk when she wants to watch Laugh-In. Or something like that. I’m just speculating.
Okay, so after one episode over her passive-aggressive griping, I switched it to Frasier reruns. Still, a worthwhile experiment. I’ll likely do it again the next time I have a Saturday morning free.