Skip to main content

The "Rugrats" Kids Have the Worst Parents

I was in one of my "don't feel like being a parent for about an hour" moods and threw on a random cartoon movie for Lulabelle the other day.  For no particular reason, I settled on Rugrats in Paris: The Movie.

(Side diatribe: Why is it "The Movie" version of "Rugrats in Paris?"  "Rugrats in Paris" wasn't a show.  It was "Rugrats."  If you insist on having "The Movie" in there, it should be "Rugrats: The Movie: In Paris."  Or is this a 15 year old complaint that I'm dragging up?  Well, no matter, I'm about to drag up some even older crap in a minute.)

Other than a brief "I'm curious because this is basically nostalgia now" flirtation with "Rugrats: All Grown Up" when I turned 20, it'd been at least twenty years since I'd seen anything Rugrats related.  It's kind of an odd property for me - when I was really young, it was just about one of my favorite shows.  Then at some point during that weird transitional phase from childhood to adolescence - you know, that narrow strip of time where your classmates have no qualms about saying things like, "I fucked her up the ass," without actually knowing the first thing about fucking or asses? - I was pretty much humiliated into abandoning the show because it was about babies and I was no longer a child.

(Whoa, sorry for all the anal sex while talking about Rugrats... I'm gonna try to lay off the tangents for a minute.)

My point is that revisiting this universe as a parent is a whole new perspective that I'm pleased to enjoy.  Basically.  I got a kick from seeing that the animators and writers were all pop culture junkies and it reminds me that a lot of the shows I watched when I was 8 or 9 had stuff that I'm only just now getting upon looking back.  Hell, the entire plot of Rugrats in Paris hinges upon Angelica pretending to be the Godfather.  That's worth something, right?

But... wow. Just wow.  These are some laid-back parents.

Like, I know that I'm only six months into this gig and I don't really have that much experience to talk from, but holy shit, you guys.

Let's see, in only the first half hour alone, the kids break into first class on an airplane and pilfer snacks just before setting off the emergency oxygen systems with nary a raised tone, the kids run through Charles de Gaulle airport unattended while two of them play with a bag of vomit (not even theirs - not saying that any bag of vomit is a great toy, but at least if it wasn't a stranger's you could be slightly assured that it wasn't contaminated with, say, Ebola), and then one of the babies pisses himself so much that it drips out all over his mother's lap and she doesn't even flinch.  Like, at all.  Yes, piss happens, but that doesn't mean you have to just sit in it like a schmuck.

Like, I get that this is supposed to be an absurd kid-oriented view of the world, so we're seeing things through a filter, but daaaaaammmmnnn.  Control your kids, assholes.  Couldn't you make an entertaining family comedy without all the criminal negligence?

This kind of thing, when paired with the fact that the show really is told through the kids' point of view, makes me wonder if actually all of their misadventures are just in Tommy's head.  Every time he misbehaves - which is apparently always - his parents put him in a corner and he spaces out and goes on long, elaborate, Brazil-like mind trips.

What a depressing show.

Anyway, at least I know I'm not doing that badly; Lula only plays with vomit bags in the privacy of our own home, thank you very much.

All the Other Nonsense That Got Pushed Off the Main Page (Post Archive)