I just saw a commercial where a little girl brings a firefly in a jar—with a few pin-sized air holes—to her parents. “It’s Tinkerbell!” the little cherub explains.
But her parents are concerned. “You should let her go.”
“Why?”
The parents exchange mischievous glances. “Because if you do, maybe we can visit her in her home.”
The sadistic tot ponders this offer and lets the firefly go, which flutters around her head, soars up past the trees, and HOLY SHIT DISNEY WORLD IS IN THE SKY! Hurry, go back to the family! Their lives are in danger!
Do the parents have mammoth heart attacks after seeing 1,152,000 sq. feet of flying castle, which they thought was grounded in Florida, hovering above over their two-story brick rambler? Does their daughter laugh when they drop dead and try to put them in a jar?
I don’t know because Disney doesn’t give a damn about families. The commercial ends with “Disney World” over the castle. For all we know, Mickey drags the bodies out of sight during the last VO, sticks a Daisy Duck costume over the girl, and chortles, “I’m getting a finders bonus.”
And what about the parents’ promise to their daughter, “maybe we can visit her in her home.” That’s great for fireflies. But what if your little runt captures a snake? What are you going to do, trick Captain Hook into swinging the flying castle over the Florida Everglades, kick him in the nuts, parachute off the ship and hopefully land before Dumbo can fire a volley of peanuts through your chute?
How about this parenting tip: creatures need abundant air or they die. Average parents hint at rewards for treating other creatures with respect. Great parents clip a cloth pin on their daughter’s nose, put her in a trashcan and dump a bag of grass clippings on her.
“You can go when ‘Tinkerbell’ goes, sweetie. Just munch on the grass if you get hungry.”
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