We've spent the last 6 weeks in Florida staying in a condo that unfortunately had three TVs. I let the kids watch a little bit now and then, usually watching with them to be sure I knew what they were seeing. Once when a McDonald's commercial came on, squawking something about the box that joy comes in, I confronted that declaration by asking a few questions such as, "Is that really where joy comes from? Where does our joy come from?" Based on the kids' enthusiastic and accurate answers, that joy comes from Jesus and not food, I felt pretty confident that they were being impacted only minimally by the ad.
Or maybe not. Yesterday, returning to Tennessee from Florida, we stopped at a McDonald's. As I stood in line to get our salad, fruit smoothies and French fries, Anaya came to me. "Mommy," she pleaded, "can you get one of the toys that comes," she paused, searching for words, "that comes from the box that joy comes in?"