Many of you know that English is not my mother's first language. That has made for some interesting conversations, conventions and attitudes.
So it should come as no surprise that my mother was not entirely familiar with cartoons when she first arrived upon our shores.
I think I was about 6 years old and it was nearing on Easter. The whole Easter egg, baked ham, resurrection stuff was extremely foreign to my mom, even with 6 years in America under her belt.
Mom learned a lot of her spoken English from tv and cartoons and children's shows were often watched. This is a brief story of such a cartoon:
Six is when the nightmares began. I began having a nightmare that lasted until I was about 12.
What could be sooooo bad? Well, my mom, getting into the Easter spirit thought we could all sit and watch a movie about bunny rabbits cause they are cute, cuddly and oh so Eastery. (Is that a word?)
The movie we watched, when I was a tender 6? Watership Down!
The blood, the horror, the violence, as a wee child these bunnies were no longer cute! I had an aversion to anything resembling a bunny for years. I had nightmares of bunny parts and vicious killing rabbits for years. What was my mom thinking? She was equally appalled but knowing little English, just thought it was some sort of weird way of celebrating Easter.
I tried to explain to my husband how upset the movie made me. I was 6!!!! He laughed at me. He couldn't understand the terror.
So, I will be reliving the torture soon. I have put Watership Down in my Netflix queue and will watch it again (without the boy around). Then I am going to watch Night of the Lepus to cleanse me of the violence ;-).Posted by Oddybobo at January 30, 2006 01:33 PM | TrackBack