I blame you, Benji: The Hunted!

In fairness, the vacation traumatization of Two-Year-Old began with a commercial on Nickelodeon. Apparently the product is some candy-bar, but ten seconds of Blue-Man-Groupesque human heads drowning in technicolor mucus scared the Beyonce out of Two-Year-Old (and me for that matter, and yes, I should really write a letter)

The clinging began. Well, leeching might depict the behavior more accurately. Two-Year-Old refused to let go of my body for days. Remember that construction paper silhouette your grade school teacher traced of you? I have one etched in tan-lines on my torso of Two-year-old (SPF 27 months)

Consequently, we avoided TV and checked out two harmless VHS’ from the local library: Clifford, and Benji. Granted, Benji: The Hunted sounds a tad menacing but the plot summary featured fuzzy forest creatures and NOVA-worthy scenery. Foreshadowing anyone?

I give you the first five-minutes (abridged, paraphrased, but not exaggerated) of Benji: The Hunted

[Cue ominous music and stormy weather]

TV Reporter: Beloved Benji Reported Lost at Sea! Lost at Sea! How terrifying! We doubt he will survive. Poor thing is lost and all alone and hungry and dirty and alone and scared and alone and lost and alone…

Anchor: Yup, he’ll probably never ever his Mommy or Daddy ever again. No one will ever see him again.

TV Reporter: Ever.

[cut to Benji matted, wet, and lost in the woods]

BANG!

Furry forest creature cries out

[cut to petrified looking Benji cowering, matted, wet, and lost in the woods]

Cue menacing hunter aggressively pursuing furry forest creature

BANG! BANG! Hunter shoots furry forest creature dead.

I hope and pray for a quick resolution so we can move on to adorable fuzzy forest babies and provide a positive television exposure for Two-Year-Old, thus preserving my screen-time sanity for years to come. Foreshadowing, anyone?

Benji runs to dead furry forest creature and starts desperately tugging at his ear, trying to hide him from the Hunter.

BANG! (warning shot for Benji, Benji gets the hell outta Compton)

[Cut to Hunter wearing furry forest trophy over his shoulders as he goes on his carcassy-way…]

Now I’m convinced the violence has passed.

Cue Benji flashback. BANG-scary BANG-hunter BANG-dead furry friend. Benji winces, shudders, and cries human tears.

I turn it off. Dogs don’t cry silicon tears (scoff!)

That night we go to dinner at a restaurant decorated from floor to ceiling with masks and skeletons. Two-Year-Old and I spend dinner in the rented mini-van, while he sobs and eats Tic Tacs for dinner.