Why watching TV won’t turn your baby into a genius
I remember the moment that I made my baby a genius. I strapped her into the
bouncer, shoved it in front of the screen and pressed play on a DVD
featuring a slow-moving array of dangling household objects to a Mozart
soundtrack. The effect on her was dramatic, as dramatic as the
transformation of Jack Nicholson, post-lobotomy, in One Flew Over the
Cuckoo’s Nest. Gormless face, drooling (more than usual), she had
gone beyond “stimulated”, as the Baby Einstein
promotional literature promised, and towards “pre-operatively insensitive to
pain”.
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