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Earlier this week, coachdaddyblog wrote a brilliant and humorous piece about the values and ideas our kids’ are learning through television “quality” programming (i.e., the notion “that grown-ups are stupid, that siblings ought to hate each other out loud, and that in order to get what you want, it’s right and just and joyful to roll your friend/classmate/rulebook to get what you want”. To check it out, click here.

I commented on his post, how we don’t let Little Guy watch certain shows, including zombies and superheroes. But that isn’t the confession…the confession comes from a part of his response to my comment. He wrote, “I think watching this…noise predisposes kids to want to see junk like a celebrity chef show later in life…” I don’t watch most reality TV shows because I can’t stand the foul language, the back-stabbing, or the “me first at all cost” mentality. But there is one exception…and it has all three. It’s a cooking contest with a loud, foul-mouthed British celebrity chef haranguing the aspiring restaurateurs in his kitchen…and it’s premiering next week.

I don’t watch it because I like to hear curses screamed at an intolerable decibel, or to see chefs demeaned through callous or snarky comments. Sometimes it’s just too easy. I do watch it because I enjoy the speculation from week to week: Who should go home? Who is going to make it to the finale? I also enjoy the food – the descriptions of things of which I have never heard nor will likely never taste. Or the way each chef takes the same challenge only to prepare a vast variety of dishes. They all look so good…and I can look and not gain a pound.

I’m not proud of the fact that I waste an hour a week watching this show (and eating through it too), but then we all have our secret vices and our weaknesses. Mine just isn’t a secret any more.