Dear Miss Peppa Pig,
The 31st of May 2004, you and your family burst onto my TV screen.
At first I thought, ‘Ahh, aren’t you cute with your posh little English accent!’
I didn’t give you much more thought until my eldest and middle sons started calling me ‘mummy’. Miss Pig, we are Irish, I simply can’t have my Irish boys calling me ‘mummy’.
I decided, Miss Pig, to take things into my own hands. I simply switched you and your family off my TV screen.
Over the years my boys fell in love with many characters, but my eldest son always loved to see your round pink face. He would scream and shout ‘It’s Peppa – oink oink.’ So, through many of my weaker moments, I’d let him watch you.
By this stage, Miss Pig, I believe you profited greatly from me and my boys. A clever move having George and his dinosaur – as my boys grew, so did their love for that brother of yours and his toy. My middle guy had, thankfully, outgrown you by his fourth birthday.
My eldest was then six and as many of you may know, was diagnosed with Hunter Syndrome. So, Miss Pig, I let him pretty much do and watch whatever the heck made him happy. Slowly he pulled away from you and I certainly wasn’t going to remind him about you or your irrational family.
Fast forward a few years and add another boy to the mix. Yes, Miss Pig, I am currently back buying mini versions of your house, your car, your daddy, your mammy and your brother. Not only that, Miss Pig, I have even purchased your friends and your school.
My dictator loves you. Ethan is back in love with you and I am stuck listening to my dictating toddler call me ‘mummy’ with a beautiful English accent. My dictator is engrossed by you and your splashing of puddles. I have now had to buy several pairs of wellies. Oh, not just any wellies, oh no, they must be the ‘same as George pig’ and apparently this ‘mummy’ can’t get that right either.
Let’s talk about your attitude, Miss Pig. Seriously, you have an attitude worse than ‘Horrid Henry.’ My dictator has no issue telling me ‘Stop it mummy, no singing’. Now, I know I am no singer, Miss Pig, but ever since he has been ‘educated’ by your world, he appears to be very forthcoming in his opinions, especially of Daddy and I.
Your Daddy, Miss Pig, is one hell of an idiot. This is obvious to even me, the mother that tries her best to do anything else other than to sit with my dictator and his brother and watch you. But alas, as I am also a referee when these boys of mine ‘sit’ together, I have had no choice but to watch you and your idea of ‘family life’.
Don’t even start me on your mummy. Why are your parents being bossed around by a piglet? Your mummy sounds like she needs a vacation or a divorce – I can never tell which she really needs, while your Daddy apparently doesn’t even know the days of the week.
You, Miss Pig, seem to forget that you are the piglet not the pig.
You have caused me to check my own morals as I find myself thinking about telling my little darling dictator that he has eaten your Irish cousins on many occasions – but I don’t, Miss Pig. I don’t! I fear though, you may be rubbing off on me now. Remember that time you told George that dinosaurs were all dead. That was blunt and cruel, Miss Pig. I am better than that, I have to be.
I have had to reduce the dictators viewing time while listening to whimpering protests of ‘but mummy’ which honestly only fuels me more.
I must not let my Irish son speak with an English accent, no Miss Pig, not because I don’t like the accent, I actually love the English accent but because all I see when I hear him is a big chubby pink pig who desperately needs some sort of discipline, even if that means threatening to turn her into chops.
I really do not like what you, Miss Pig, are teaching my already stubborn dictator.
I’m happy to report Ethan no longer sits still enough to watch you and your ‘oink oinking’.
Miss Peppa Pig, you’ve had a good run of things considering you’re a little cow.
But this is a dear John letter. So, bye bye Miss Pig. There is only room for one pig in our lives and she is a strong independent pig who knows how to get her frog.
Thank you. We are over!
From Mammy Renton.
This was originally published on FamilyfriendlyHQ