When I was eight years old, my mother worked as a part-time in-home nurse for an elderly woman. I would often accompany her on Saturday mornings and wait for her in the guest room with the TV.
Growing up in the Pokémon generation (back when there were only 150 creatures, not 500+), I always switched the TV to channel 5, relishing the adventures of Ash Ketchum and Pikachu.
Then one morning Angela came in. Angela, the night shift nurse, had been staying in the guest room. She was, to say the least, very eccentric passionate about her Catholicism. Or so I found out.
She saw Pikachu on the screen and yelled,
“SATAN! SATAN! IT’S SATAN’S PET!”
Angela switched off the television, and I panicked. Before I could protest, she yanked out a jar of holy water from who knows where and poured the contents on me.
Poured. The Holy Water. On me. I freaking had a heart-attack
As I attempted to process what had just happened, I blurted out: “Are you crazy?! Pikachu is not Satan or anything close! He’s cute, not evil.”
A few minutes later, my mother burst in, startled by Angela’s screaming.
Angela got a discourse on how inappropriate is pouring holy water on an eight-year-old and learned Pikachu is unassociated with Satan. I got a talk on how everyone has different tastes in television and how some people are more sane calm than others.
So we shook hands, apologized to each other and I fully acknowledged that Angela found Pokémon distasteful and acted insane. Lovely. If only I knew that before the holy water plastered my Disney princess t-shirt.
Lesson: People have different tastes in television. Try as you might, convincing them to change is hard. So if they despise Pokémon, turn off the tube before they reach for the holy water.