…but it was easier to rent Battlestar Galactica.
Being the bad parent I am, I let him watch the old series* first on the retro TV station. Even worse, I let him stay up until 10 PM on Saturday nights to watch it. Worse still, I kind of enjoy watching it too. Then, we rented the first season of the new series.
I asked the man who owns the movie rental place if it would be OK for Danny to watch and he gave me kind of a "Well, what the hell do YOU think" look, and muttered something about it being, "intense." Then, he took my money and probably got right on the phone to the authorities reporting me as a bad parent.
Maybe it’s me, but I didn’t find it intense. Watchable, sure-pretty good actually, but not intense. Danny wasn’t too disturbed by it either.
When we watch programmes together, I try to help Danny understand what the point of the show is, what message or moral there is to take away from it. Danny has concluded that the moral of Battlestar Galactica is:
"Don’t get all kissy-face with Cylons."
(No, not THAT Cylon)
Got it?
*I really prefer the old school sparkly purple-headed Cylons-the new ones look like they have a cheap LED light shoved inside a wastebasket for a head.