Have I mentioned my daughter's obsession with all things Pokemon? It's a mystery to us how she started getting lured into the devil's own anime, but it's happened, of that we are sure.
The latest indications that she's gone over the edge?
1. She bought an electronic encyclopedia-type piece of junk which describes all the characters -- 493! -- and which quizzes you on them.
2. The door to her room is covered with Pokemon coloring pages. Covered. Covered.
3. She can be moved to tears if she is not allowed to watch Cartoon Network's daily episode of Pokemon in one of its many iterations.
4. She has decided that her real life crush -- ooooooooh, Ted is sure dreamy -- is no longer the boy for her. She is instead devoting her life to the pursuit and capture of Ash Ketchum as her true soul mate. Did I mention Ash is a cartoon character?
The last point has pushed me over the edge. [Granted, it doesn't take much to do that as I am always precariously positioned.] "He's a fictional character!" I will scream loudly. "He's a cartoon!" I will further add, "He doesn't exist."
But it occurs to me that my big crushes of my youth might as well have been on cartoon characters. I had posters of Bobby Sherman, the Jackson 5, and others on my walls. [I wrote about my 10 childhood heroes and idols for 10 on Tuesday in April.]
Let's face it, I didn't really love Paul Michael Glaser. I loved Starsky. [And, yes, I know now that wasn't love. But I didn't know it then.] What's so different about Sam adoring Ash? Zip.
And, for Sammy, the fact that her Pokemon love and obsession drives me to distraction? Why that's just a bonus for her!