Practically Perfect in Every Way

Mary Poppins is my favorite movie. Of all time. Now I do love All the President's Men for its incredible take on an time in our country when things were so screwed up it could have only been ellipsed in history by the Civil War. And I will watch anything with Vincent Price over and over again.

But Mary is my girl.

Mary Poppins encompasses all the perfect elements in a movie. Great songs. A London locale. Bratty kids who learn a lesson or two. A suffragette mother. A Jack-of-All Trades named Bert. Uncle Albert, who laughs, then floats and takes tea on the ceiling. Arthur Treacher (of Fish and Chips fame) plays the constable. Magic. A dog named Andrew. And Julie Andrews.

But back to the bratty kids who learn a lesson or two.

Since I am NOT a parent, what do I know about kids? Well, I do know they need to behave. Not talk back. Not listen to an IPod during dinner. Not win awards for just showing up.

Jane and Michael Banks had absent parents. Not unlike lots of moms and dads today. They worked too hard, sent the kids to dinner and bed in the nursery the minute dad got home. Sort of the same thing parents today do with computers and IPads.

Enter Mary. She got those kids in shape "spit spot." Gave them their spoon full of medicine, made them clean the nursery, got them to stop running away from home and introduced them to a wonderful, fun world of imagination. When the children learned enough, she departed with her  talking umbrella.

I miss Marys. Every time I see a bratty kid and overindulgent parent. I wonder why Mary won't visit anymore.

Maybe it has something to do with attachment parenting. Mary can't compete with a kid who breast feeds until they are five.