Toys, books, clothes, brands…the “kid” market has seen epic growth in the past 50+ years. And during that time people have made entire careers in research, test marketing and quality control for all of those products and services.

So you would think that they would be pretty good at this by now. That they could identify mistakes and problems that would be immediately obvious to the parents who are buying this stuff.

And for the most part they are. But I tend to think they’re a little too busy arguing over exactly how many eye slants should be available for a Mii or whether the clasp on the American Girl doll’s Kelly bag truly replicates the original. Because sometimes the less subtle details slip through the cracks…

OR maybe it’s just getting what you pay for. The good people at Nintento and American Girl are probably hiring all of the best “talent” and the less sexy jobs are filled with mediocre professionals who don’t care enough to bring their A game to the drafting board.

This would explain some rather disturbing things that I’ve found in our toy box lately.

First – the cheap My Little Ponies that I recently bought for Eleanor (you know how she loves her Ponies). These mini-sized versions are more novelty item than toy and don’t include the luxurious magenta manes that make the original ponies so beloved by little girls all over the world. Instead, they are 100% plastic. Kind of like My Little Pony action figures.

They look pretty normal right? Well – that’s what I thought until the boys got hold of them and proceeded to snap off their manes.

But here is the disturbing part: the ponies aren’t broken. The pony hair seems to be removable. It snaps right back on.

So then I thought it might be a mix and match manes thing… Not so much. The manes are pony-specific. So what does this mean? Why is that fun? How does removable hair figure into play? Do little girls play “Pinkie Pie goes goes to her chemo treatment?” Chemo ponies don’t seem like a big seller to me…

Joking aside – it’s just cheap construction. Probably involving sweat shop labor in a third world country.

What bothers me more is a disturbing trend I’ve found in some children’s literature. We have at least two books that turn Darwin’s survival of the fittest theory on its head.

Now, I understand that if you are going to read books about animals who walk, talk, wear clothes, go to school and live in houses with central air, you have to exercise some suspension of disbelief. But I also think that the writers should be somewhat responsible about it.

If a children’s book author decides to “go there,” then I honestly believe that they should be thorough and consider the implications attached to everything from turns of phrase to illustration details. Sadly, it seems that poor choices and flat out hack writing prevail.

Two books in particular keep me up at night. One of which is The True Francine by Marc Brown.

Those of you with children who watch (or those of you who are young enough to remember watching) Arthur, the popular children’s show may be familiar with this series and the characters in it – all of whom are animals.

I won’t even get into how they live in the same community yet manage to maintain all bunny/all monkey/all mouse/etc. families without any inter-species marriages, because my head might explode. But I will say that this 28 page book manages to contain two instances of text that any child might call into question.

The first is ridiculous. Look at this group walking to school, discussing the teachers they might get:

All animals right? So are the teachers you see them imagining in those thought clouds. But then Buster (a bunny) makes this joke:

HUMAN blood. Does this mean that the word “human” can be interpreted as referring to all sentient creatures, or that there are human farms on the outskirts of town and the animal kids are concerned with “human” rights?

THEN, we learn that Muffy (a monkey) who is teacher’s pet tells Mr. Ratburn that “the cat ate her homework.”

I wonder what Sue Ellen thinks of that…

There is also a strange mention of Francine’s pet gerbil, but I think that’s enough about this anthropological nightmare.

The other book is one from Rosemary Wells’ Max and Ruby series:

This one takes a different approach to animal characters by asking us to assume that only bunnies made the Darwinian leap. And there are plenty of birds, frogs, and other small garden animals wandering around to add weight to that.

But in both the books and the animated series, we see a creepy assortment of human dolls in the bunny house.

Every time I read Max Cleans Up, I’m struck by this anomaly and wonder where the real humans are. Obviously, they exist for the bunnies to use them as models for their dolls, but they don’t actually appear in living form.

Is this some kind of Planet of the Apes thing where humans are a slave race and maybe Max and Ruby are too poor to afford one of their own? I think not since there are plenty of scenes outside of their home, and you would expect to see some hulking humanoids doing manual labor or carrying bags for their bunny masters.

The other possibility is that the human race is extinct, yet cherished in cuddly form by bunny children, much in the same way our human children love dinosaurs. Either way – the issue is not addressed. Am I the only one who finds this weird?

Most other mothers I talk to are more concerned by the lack of parents in the Max and Ruby household and the fact that young Ruby is single-handedly raising her little brother with only sporadic help from a loving, yet somewhat dotty grandmother. In fact I’ve read two posts on this subject so I think that it has been adequately covered.

Ultimately – it comes down to editing. And there is an obvious breakdown in the system here. Bald ponies are a risk you run when you buy cheap plastic toys, but one would think that publishing companies would have a bit more integrity.

So you can add another concern to the list of disturbing things our children are viewing. Step aside guns, there’s a new threat in town. Evolution is the new violence.