You could always try getting them to watch quality entertainment like Gravity Falls or Adventure Time or My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I would recommend the first and the third, and haven't yet seen enough of AT to like it or really understand it.
Maybe in a couple years, fingers crossed. They're still at more of a
Blues Clues age/stage of development. And it turns out that
Bubble Guppies is like a magic pacifier. When it's on, there is silence and good behavior. When it's off, there is chaos and backache-inducing footraces to chase after small children and scoop them up before they can put whatever that thing is that they're currently holding in their mouth and/or bash the other child over the head with it.
I have no idea how full-time parents pull it off. I watch the kids for a couple hours, and it makes me feel like I've just gone ten rounds with mighty Thor.
* * *
Changing subjects, Luna's regular posts with material about writing have got me thinking. From time to time, I think I'm probably going to toss out small snippets of writing which I find instructive for one reason or another. Hopefully other people may find them useful to think about as well.
Characterization has been on my mind recently, and I wanted to share a little piece of writing from
Planescape: Torment. That game was hugely influential for me for a number of reasons, and I think that one of the things which stands out about it is the quality of the character design, and the distinct voices which the writers managed to create for each of your companions. Along those lines, here's Morte's character biography, as told by the disembodied floating skull himself. I think it's remarkable how much of a feel you can get for this very strange character from just a couple paragraphs:
Quote:
Of course you got questions about me -- you probably have questions about ALL sorts of things. Let me boil it down for you: when you've been as dead as long as I have... without arms, legs, or anything else, you spend a lot of time thinking, y'know? I figure it's been a few hundred years since I got penned in the dead book, but time doesn't really tally up the way it used to... without that mortality thing pressing down on you, all the days and nights kind of blend together. So you think about this, and you think about that... and the most important piece of wisdom I've learned over the past hundred or so years is this: There's a LOT more obscene gestures you can make with your eyes and your jaw than most people think. Without even resorting to insults or taunting, you can really light a bonfire under someone just with the right combination of eye movements and jaw clicking. Drives them barmy! If you ever get beheaded and your skin flayed from your skull, I'll show you how it's done. I got some real gems, chief -- they'd drive a deva to murder, they would.
I know what you're thinking: I'm dead. I've lost so much. It should have sobered me up to all that joy I missed, all those loves I've lost. Some people get all depressed about death -- they haven't TRIED it, of course -- but one thing they never seem to realize is how it changes your perspective on things; it really makes you take a second look at life, broaden your horizons. For me, it's pretty much made me realize how many dead chits are in this berg and how few sharp-tongued men like myself there are to go around -- you spin the wheel right, and your years of spending nights alone are over!
Shallow? I'm not shallow. I just don't get caught up in all that philosophy and faith and belief wash that every berk from Arborea to the Gray Waste rattle their jaws about. Who cares? The Planes are what they are, you're what you are, and if it changes, fine, but things aren't bad the way they are -- and I should know. Go on, ask me some questions about the Planes, or the chant, or the people, or the cultures -- when you end up like me -- without eyelids, that is -- you end up seeing a lot of things, and I can tell you almost everything you need to know.
It's like this: We're in this together, chief. Until this is over, I stick to your leg.