Damn You Benji

"Does anyone die in Benji?" my daughter Genevieve asks. Genevieve, a budding PETA member feels deeply when any animal is hurt on screen or off. Bernie and I look at each other. "I have no idea..." "Wait. there is a whole Benji series. He can't die" We assure Genevieve of Benji's safety and send her back to watch the saga unfold.

Suddenly we hear blood-curdling screams coming from the east side of the house. What was that? Sometimes you can't really tell if a kid is screaming with laughter or agony. We hear sobs following and more wailing. "Genevieve! are you okay in there?" "YOU TOLD ME THE DOG WOULDN'T DDDIIIIIIIIIEEEE!" her staccato voice gasps between sobs...WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!" "Oh MY GAWD! Bernie, turn that fecking movie off!" "Genevieve, its not real. The dog really didn't die, its just a movie." NOOOO! hhee bbbiitte thhat man on ttthhee annkle and heee KKKKICCCKED him and hhheeee DDDIIIIEDD!"
"huh?" "No, Benji doesn't die, he's gonna come back, you'll see..." "NNNOOOOOO!! nnnot Bbbenjjii, the llitle wwwhite dddoooggg...." "AHHHHHHHHHH!" At this point, she's hysterical.
"Bernie, this kid...she's gonna need electro-shock therapy next." "Let her watch, she has to toughen up." "Bernie, the kid is flipping out, get her out of there..." Its like watching a train wreck.

I've got a bad habit of using food to sooth. "Hey kid, quit yer belly-achin' and eat a cookie." "I'll give you an ice cream cone if you stop crying...."
I hate myself every time I do it...the bribery. "Hey Genevieve, wanna Drumstick?" I called from the kitchen. " YEEAAAHHHH." "Okay, come in here, stop crying and I'll give you a Drumstick"

She wobbles in, red-faced and sniffling, sucking in her bottom lip for extra dramatic punch. "Here ya go, sit down. Blow your nose and have an ice cream cone" I'm teasing her, unwrapping the ice cream and waving it back and forth..."Go on, blow your nose. You can't eat ice cream with a runny nose."

"WWWHHHHHHAAAAAAA!!!" She erupts. Crap here we go. "WWWHHHHYYYY!!! Why did they have to KKKILLLL him!" Plan B - The Hug. "Come here, tell Mommy allll about it" I'm stroking her long blonde hair, listening again to the terrifyingly cruel recap. On and on we go, Drumstick melting away on the kitchen table. Bernie comes in.

"Come here G." "No more TV!" I protest...but let her go. He turned on Back to the Future, just as Biff starts picking on the McFly at the prom. OH NO! I leave the room. She doesn't seem to mind the humiliation of the older McFly. Afterwards, she takes her seat at the table and happily devours the now soupy Drumstick.

"Mom, I'm sorry I acted that way." "Its alright Sweetie, you've had a rough day... Go to bed."