An Unintended Lesson from Caillou

The other night I was watching the Sprout Channel, which is actually targeted at little children.  One of their staple late-night cartoons shows, Caillou, was on and I was too dang tired to change the channel (which is what I usually do when this show is on).  Caillou, by the way, is the name of the little bald-headed boy in the cartoon.  He lives in a nice suburban home with his nice suburban family of mother, father, little sister, and conveniently-appearing extended family and friends.  Caillou tends to be very enthusiastic about life and learning new things, and his attitude is infectious in a good way.  In other words, we're talking about the diametric opposite kind of role behavior than what you'd see on cynical, satirical South Park.  Let me give you an example from the episode I just saw...

It's early in the day and Caillou has just come back from the library where he checked out a book he wants to read.  The parents at home each tell him and his little sister that they are going to be too busy with other matters to attend to them, but they managed to conveniently coax dependable, useful ol' grandma over to the house to babysit them.  That suits upbeat Caillou just fine, who promptly announces to everyone that he is going to make a priority of reading his book.  Grandma can concentrate on playing with little sis while he reads. And thus the scene is set for this episode.

It becomes progressively clear over the course of the show that poor Caillou cannot find a quiet, undisturbed place in his house to read his book.  If he stays in his bedroom, the pet cat bothers him.  The playroom is a no-go as well, as his rambunctious, loud little sister is playing with grandma there.  What bothers me is when he goes into the living room and sits on the sofa to read.  His mother then walks right into the room and turns on the noisy vacuum cleaner, in essence asserting her presence and territorial authority over her young son.  Apparently, vacuuming the floor is part of her important "busy" work that is keeping her from spending time with her little children today, don't you see.  Caillou, unlike I'm sure any of the South Park boys (except possibly Butters), is O.K. with mom's brazen rudeness and happily looks elsewhere for quietness.  Finally, he discovers the only place where he can read in peace: his own bedroom closet.  He reads his book, about travel on the high seas, and imagines himself to be on a voyage of his own.  Then his family members, collectively looking for him after discovering that they are no longer able to ruin his reading experience, finally find him in his one successful place of literary refuge.  But it is too late: Caillou has finished the book!

Caillou is obviously, at least in this episode, a kid with no chips on his shoulders.  But I'd still keep an eye on him (were he actually a real person, that is): with the passage of years and hindsight, benign memories, especially those of interactions with close family members, can easily "go south" and be reinterpreted in a much more critical and even unforgiving light. Sure, the intended message is to demonstrate the "proper" way for children to present themselves in the face of adversity on the part of others. But an unintended lesson may also be that one can usually expect arbitrary, selfish and rude behavior on the part of those in authority...