Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Fuck You, Barney

I hate sharing. I'll do it - because I know I'm supposed to - I just hate it. And the worst part is that I think this character flaw actually only set in in my adult life.
When I was little, I never had a problem sharing my toys or taking turns.
"Want some of my graham crackers? Sure! No problem."
"Of course you can play with my dolls. Which one do you want?"
"What's that? You want to push marbles up my nose now? Go right ahead!"
But that was in the Golden Age of No Responsibility or Paying for Stuff. That's why I don't feel all warm and fuzzy inside when I give a homeless person my leftovers from a restaurant. Instead of taking comfort in the fact that one less person on the street will have to go to bed hungry that night, I selfishly mourn the loss of my little box of Tai Chicken Curry. When my neighbor asks to borrow a DVD, I find myself acutely aware of my sudden desire to watch that specific movie every night until it is returned. And when my friend wants to switch and put marbles up my nose for a change...just kidding.
But you get my point, right? I still share, but I hate doing it. And it's that stupid dinosaur Barney's fault. As a kid growing up, I had things like Mr. Rogers and kindergarten teachers and goldfish death threats from my older brother to instill this virtue in me. But kids are stupid, and they'll do anything you tell them to without thinking. I was told to share, so I shared.
But as I grew older, these mentors began to fade into the background. My teachers became more concerned with educating me on multiplication and Columbus (so not a sharer). My brother became entirely disinterested in me and the death of my goldfish (which by this time had long ago died anyway) because he was a super cool teenager and I was, well, related. (Love you, J! Yes, fully-grown and I still possess the power to embarrass you.) And television icons that sang songs about days of the week and talked about crap like the importance of being a good person had really lost their moment in the spotlight.
Then along came Barney's fat-ass. "Hey kids, it's good to share!" Shut up! Stupid, purple reptile. Your mouth doesn't even move when you talk, just gapes open waiting for one of those overly-paid little actor kids to sucker punch you in the teeth.
Barney re-introduced sharing. He brought it back. But by this time, it didn't seem as cool. I was paying for my own graham crackers and maybe I didn't want to share them with Susy and who cares that she's in a wheelchair and her mom's on Welfare. But because of Barney, I had to or I'd look like an asshole.
So yes, I will share my shit with you and take turns and all that stuff. But it's not because I want to. It's because a big, purple dinosaur told me to.

Hey! This blog is about dinosaurs!

8 comments:

  1. Yeahhh, I'm not much for sharing either. I'm super private and even feel a little awkward having people over, just in case they touch stuff. :/

    Also, you're sooooo right about Barney. He's stupid. Even as a kid I thought he was stupid. Death to the chubby purple beast! >:(

    *ahem* Excellent post! :)

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  2. Barney was socialist, everyone knows that. He was just meant to brainwash children into growing up to become crazed leftists... Or, something along those lines. At least, if you think that, you'll have an easier time not sharing.

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  3. Uhm, have you ever seen that show 'Home Movies' where an entire hilarious episode is literally dedicated to the kids making a PSA to deter children from putting marbles up their noses?

    Yeah, I haven't seen it in awhile either, because my neighbor borrowed it and HASN'T RETURNED IT! And yes, I suddenly have an overwhelming urge to go pound on that fuckers door and storm into his grubby apartment to retrieve my property....which he probably hasn't even watched yet. Grrrrr....

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  4. I like to use the fact that I'm an only child as my excuse for not wanting to share, but honestly, I'm sure it has nothing to do with that. I just want ALL the cookies.

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  5. Big purple freak...I don't get even a remote attraction from kids, to "it."

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  6. I hate it too. Nothing bugs me more than when I buy myself a nice treat and my husband asks if he can have some before I even got to it. I can't say 'no' or else I'm a bitch but I really hate having to say 'sure' I really just want to tell him that if he wants some he can drive himself to the store and get himself some.

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  7. So Glad I visited--You Put Barney in a whole nother category of "HATE" that I didn't even know I had for him!!!!

    Mind if I tag along?

    John

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