There is only one great tragedy in a mothers life. To run out of diapers. Let's discuss possible substitutes: paper towels, towels, lots and lots of big brother underwear, commando, prayer. Yeah, I'm not so hip on any of the aforementioned items.
A mad dash to the store is the only choice here *. Good thing it's not quite Armageddon and the shelves are still stocked. A mad dash it was. A quick diaper run. Nothing so difficult about that eh? Not so fast.
Upon entering the store, and I mean smack you in the face at the entrance, couldn't avoid the thing, I was quickly overtaken by this TV that was at least the size of Texas and possibly Alaska. Does anyone that shops at the stores I shop at even have a wall big enough for that monstrosity anyway?! No matter, it was the TV to beat all TVs.
So I worshipped. I got sucked in and found myself needing the fool thing. How is that possible? Hypnotic and cunning its power was alarming. Disturbingly, the alarm only came after I managed to escape from its grasp. Lucky me, I did escape.
In a world inundated with the next best thing, and all the technological toys a person could ever desire, maybe we should dig up some dirt, and plant some seeds, and take a walk, and see what's real. Maybe we could choose to live beyond the screen rather than to the screen.
The Golden Calf was a welcome gesture towards fun and entertainment without consequence. Its hypnotic powers promised safety regardless of behavior. Masterfully deceptive are the golden calves of our day.
* I am not an equal opportunity diaperist. Cloth diapers were not mentioned for a reason. I nannied with them and never jumped on that bandwagon as a mother. However, I have nothing against them and shout hurrah to those more environmentally diligent than I.
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