We have only one TV in our house. Wait, that’s a lie. We installed one in our kitchen last night but it won’t have cable. It will only play music and movies on it. This one TV has recently caused TD, our five year-old, some considerable emotional pain and suffering. In our quest to find a show that we could all watch at the same time we settled on TLC’s ‘The Next Great Baker’. The girl loves her some baking shows. Cupcake Wars? She would probably buy the box set.
My point?
At some point during ‘The Next Great Baker’ episode nine hundred and eleventy -the one where Buddy asks the bakers to make a cake that looks like man-eating flesh virus. It’s a classic- one of those commercials played. You know what I’m talking about. Those commercials with Willie Nelson crooning about no love, featuring a dog with one leg and six cats crammed into an oversized, flea-ridden sock with eye gunk so deep they look like they might be bleeding from said orifices. Yeah, those commercials. TD’s eyes grew wide as the music twanged and cats mewed silently. Dogs with half a tongue look beseechingly through the screen. Those giant eyes of hers matched the hurt animals flashing before her and she said, “Mommy, can we help them, please?”
Oh, Internets. That commercial.
So we did. We dumped her piggy bank section that says ‘Donate’ and counted out $14.07. I wrote a check for $15 and she mailed it out last night.
TD holding her envelope for the ASPCA.
Rest easy three toed cats, some kitty chow is on the way.
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