Jo Frost in the 'hood
Last night, as is her wont, Darling Wife was watching SuperNanny. And the chosen household had a cop husband and a stay-at-home mom, in a beautiful house. Or so she tells me; I wasn't watching at all until the end, where I was in the same room. Wife was dubious about whether a policeman could afford such a beautiful house. "Overtime," I said. "No, he's dealing drugs on the side," she said. And then we thought: we've never seen SuperNanny visit anything but the most solidly middle-class homes. Why is this? Do the poor have parenting skills so superior to their other life skills that they don't need her? Observation suggests otherwise. Is it part of the conceit of "having a nanny", which is an upper-class thing? Surely the selected families don't pay for the privilege of having their private lives exposed.
We decided that we really want to see Jo visit a trailer park. "This is such a (sniff sniff), uh, beautiful home you have here (as she steps over the puddle of cat pee in the kitchen floor). And that macaroni and cheese is such a pretty bright orange color!" Actually, I'd like to see some fusion shows: "SuperNanny visits Jerry Springer" "SuperNanny on Wife Swap". And the big question: does Ty Pennington have any kids, and are they on Ritalin? That would be a SuperNanny episode to watch: "Here are the rules: no kickinn, no fightinn, no screaminn in the megaphone, no tearinn down the house and rebuildinn it in a week."
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