Saturday, February 5, 2011

Better late than never, I guess

I'm not sure what it is about the produce section that makes this woman suddenly stop and ask herself "did I take the pill this morning?" I really HOPE it's not that green bean she's holding in her hand, because...well, that would just be wrong.

At any rate, it's really annoying that she can't remember if she took her pill, because apparently if she had, she'd be squeezing in behind the Sale on Watermelons to do it with the next passerby (seriously, why DOES this thought pop into her skull?)

Ok, I'll move on. We don't know why she was reminded of her birth control medication while shopping for veggies, but we do know how that thought gathers strength- her unattended little monsters have just taken out some of those watermelons, the adorable little tikes. The helpless "what am I gonna do, they are my spawn after all" look on this woman's face suggests that she thinks about Life Before These Things more often than she officially lets on in the course of the commercial.

So she gets home with her sack of groceries (celery sticking out of the top-check) and opens the door just in time to see more of her unattended Oopses destroying part of her lovely suburban home. And here it gets really confusing- at one point in this ad, she tells us that "two are enough, for now." But she had two kids at the grocery store- and when she walks into her house, there are two more. Are they the same kids? If so, how did they manage to get into the house and wreck the place before she got in? Why didn't they at least hold the freaking door for her? And if they are different kids, did she just forget about them when she told us that "two are enough, for now?" (Not that I could blame her...)

And now we get to meet Dad, who is every bit as attentive to these Life-Ruining little energy vampires as Mom is. Dad is busy doing what dads do in the suburbs- sitting on a lawn chair, reading the newspaper, and gradually consuming about four pounds of M&Ms. Ah, the American Dream. Except that the bitter reminders of his fertility are swiping his snacks. Well, at least they aren't demanding his notice- that's something.

Here's the message that hangs heavily over this entire commercial, and all the others for the same medication- the Idea of having kids is nice, but god damn they will drive you into an early grave, so here's a weird piece of plastic for you to jam into yourself, ladies, if you can manage to make the idea of having sex pleasant again by separating the concept from those noisy little creatures who are always underfoot.

How many of those creatures does this woman have again? The odd thing is that she seems to be underestimating that number. Wishful thinking, I guess.


  1. I just checked. Those are the same kids from the grocery store. Did she send them home in a cab?

    Also, I loathe these ads. Any birth control ad just makes me want to rip out my ovaries and throw them into a garbage disposal because I hate being a woman in an age where we have to talk about shoving a piece of hormone-infused plastic into our uterus because we can't be fussed to take a pill for the .008 seconds it takes to do it.

    Also, a question for anyone... if you forget to take your pill- which is a daily occurrence, how would you remember in five years that you have a foreign object in your body? You haven't thought about it in... what? Five years?

    By the way, I'm familiar with this particular product because my doctor thought it'd be a good idea to help with my peri-menopause issues (which is the polite way to say I started menopause symptoms at age 34). So I know why its an excellent form of birth control. And no, you don't want to know!