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Lost in Translation

As the mother of a soon to be 3-year-old daughter, I have a bone to pick with Dora the Explorer.

I let it slide as Dora brainwashed my daughter (a.k.a. “the girl”) into believing that there is nothing wrong with having a boy as a best friend (how does Dora avoid boy cooties?), and said best friend doesn’t even have to be human.  Hence the girl’s best friend, Bob the Bear, is perfectly acceptable.  And just as Dora and Boots the monkey are joined at the hip, the girl is never without Bob.  Fine, I can live with that.

However, Dora has gone too far this time.  I can no longer communicate with my daughter and it’s all because Dora has been teaching her Spanish.

When I wake the girl up in the morning, she says, “Hola, mamá!”  When the girl goes down the stairs, she says, “abajo!” Going up the stairs, she says, “sube!”  When opening the door to her dollhouse, she says, “abre!”  When running around the house like a maniac with her brother, she says, “ayúdeme!”  When it’s time to take her brother to the school bus, she says, “vámonos!”  I’m waiting for the day when she says, “¿Está realmente tan estúpido?” and all I’ll be able to do is just nod my head and pour myself a glass of wine.

What have I ever done to you, Dora?  Am I going to have to shell out the bones to get “Rosetta Stone” just to have a simple conversation with my own daughter?  Is this some kind of evil plan designed to erect a language barrier between English speaking mothers and their children so that Dora can achieve world domination?  Does your cousin, Diego, have a secret room at the Animal Rescue Center from which you and your kin implement your insidious plots?

I’m on to you, Dora.  Don’t think I’m just going to let you get away with this.  Tus días están contados!

And the same goes for your little friend, Kai-lan, too.

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