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I am a sucker. I am an advertiser's wet dream. If it can be advertised, I can be convinced that I want to buy it or beg for it for a gift. I am especially susceptible to late night infomercials.

Debbie Meyer Green Bags? Of course! Who doesn't want to keep their produce brand-spankin'-fresh?! I am fully convinced that these special bags will make my strawberries last until the end of time, unless I remember I have them in the fridge and eat them all in one sitting.

The Bumpit? Yes! I want it! I even have it! Sadly, it does not work. I am truly disappointed. Nevermind the fact that I have never nor will I ever actually leave the house with any sort of hill or mountain sculpted into my hair.... the models on the commercial seemed so happy. So put together- which is totally my fantasy. I am one of those women who always looks like she could have used an extra five minutes to get ready. Disheveled is my norm. Anything to help it not be like that would be welcome. Next I am gonna try the InStyler. If Allure magazine says its good then it has to be, right?

I can totally see the use for the Kangaroo carrier to make switching purses that much easier. At three in the morning the Neckline Slimmer makes sense and I am a huge fan of Proactive though I do not possess the pimply face that the product requires. I can kick the asses of all the PX90 people and I dream of having closets thoroughly organized with those special hangers and Space Bags and the Flip Fold.

Oh these advertisers have me by a choke-hold. My late night brain wants it all. (My late night brain also thinks that there is a chance in hell that someday I will hit the winning lottery numbers...)

But the other night I found my Holy Grail of late night infomercial products. The EZ Egg Cracker. Its not so much that I have the obviously huge problem of cracking and separating eggs that this product promises to alleviate. Its the "free gift" that comes with it. An egg scrambler that you use to scramble the eggs IN THE SHELL. Just poke this little probe into the bottom of the egg and press a button and egg innards are whipped and mixed. I MUST have this. And not so much because I spend my mornings bitching and moaning that the scrambling process takes just too much time and muscle....no... what I want to do is steal into your house (yes, yours) and prescramble all of your eggs. I want the media to pick up this story- a rash of home invasions where the only damage done was creating morning convenience.

I wanna be called The Scrambler.

Or maybe the Egg-sistentialist.

Sigh. I need help. And a Jupiter Jack.

Conclusion: Spain hates little kids

I stumble into the living room this morning and the Monkeys are all in various stages of lounging- each with a different arrangement of pillows and blankets and breakfast items- giggling hysterically.

"Mommy, Mommy! Watch this!"

I stare at the TV through blurry pre-coffee eyes and mumble something vaguely like "Oh, that's great" and attempt to shuffle away to make myself a pot o' the juice.

"MOMMY! Watch until I say stop!!!"

Ugh. Fine. I stand and watch, barely registering what I am seeing (pre-coffee me is grouchy and unable to process things). This is what I see on the screen

It appears to be some conglomeration of stuffed animals in a car. Doing stuff. Now imagine this scene with a live cricket hopping around. No, I am not making this up. The above creatures and one of these

Now, I hate bugs and everyone knows this. I figure this is why the Monkeys are beginning to giggle even more. It is disgusting. And seriously, if this was in my car (nevermind the stuffed animals that apparently can come to life and kill me in my sleep- if they can figure out the child safety locks) I would never go in it again.

"Keep watching," I am warned and the giggling is becoming louder and louder.....

A panda bear with a muzzle appears on the screen. What??!! A stuffed panda I get, but a muzzle? I have never once felt the need to muzzle a stuffed animal. There has never been a point where I looked at a cuddly stuffed creature and thought "Ya know- this bear is getting a little too mouthy. That's it, mister! One more backtalk and I will muzzle your ass!" And who MAKES stuffed animal muzzles? Is there a huge market for this sort of thing? Is there an epidemic of out-of-control-yappy-rabid toys that I am unaware of? Do I need to go get some of the seemingly vacant-eyed animals in my house in check? Or is the Disney channel getting into some sort of subliminal fetish thing? (Which I would be more concerned about if the panda was wearing a ball-gag, but still...)

More and more giggling. And then, out of nowhere, crawling over the seat of the vehicle right toward S&M Panda and Blue Ball Dude and Jumping Cricket is this

Oh my effing god.

I simultaneously jump, scream, and throw up a little. My heart is racing. I am awake! Fight or Flight has fully kicked in. (flight all the way, baby) My Windex is powerless against such a creature. And the Monkeys have erupted into full-fledged laughter. Why? Why is this? Do they not know that this creature has this face?

And it will think nothing of sucking your brains from your head or at the very least getting really close to your face and giving you a heart attack. (I can no longer look at this picture. His spider eyes are stealing my soul as we speak.)

This is a kids show? Whatever happened to Scrooge McDuck or HeMan or Jem? This little nugget of a show is called The Secret Life of Suckers and I Googled it and discovered it was created by some Spanish production company. All I have to say is this: "Parar y desistir!!!" and "Sus dibujos de animados me da pesadillos!!"