Avoiding a Barney

When Sweden took over the EU presidency in January, one of the things it was expected to push for was tighter control of television advertising aimed at children. As a parent of two small consumers, I welcomed this prospect. But the Swedes seem to have gone quiet on the issue of late. Of course, it may be that I just haven't been able to hear them over the noise of my daughter badgering me to buy the new Thomas The Tank Engine four-piece tableware set.

I'm exaggerating a little here. The truth is, I chose that product at random from the latest Argos catalogue. But that was only after I found Roisin - aged two-and-three quarters - leafing through the same catalogue's toy section and announcing she was getting many of the products in it "from Santa Claus".

I think I speak for most parents when I say the possibility that Santa has the Argos catalogue is at least as worrying as the thought of India and Pakistan having the bomb. So just in case, I've taken the precaution of tearing out the page featuring "Playalong Barney", in which the fun-loving American dinosaur (with the voice creepier than Christopher Lee's) performs a wide repertoire of songs and nursery rhymes for only £36.99.

But leaving my deep-and-still-growing hatred of Barney aside for a moment, the catalogue incident was a reminder of the commercial pressures that lie further down the parenting road. Indeed, I've already experienced them in the supermarket, which is why I now doubt that new TV curbs would have much effect. The problem is, children's advertising is ubiquitous. And even without it, companies know they can sell products just by putting TV characters on the packaging.

I get a big kick out of taking the children to the supermarket. At their age, they find it more entertaining than the zoo (and unlike the zoo, the supermarket is not closed because of the foot-and-mouth crisis). They love to help choose the purchases. Moreover, the store promotion's free food samples are an important part of their diet, at least on days the Daddy's minding them.

But the supermarket trips become more trying by the week. The problems started in the dairy section, where I've noticed more and more children's characters are attaching themselves to yoghurt. As a yoghurt buying adult, I tend to choose brand X for rational reasons such as that, as far as I can remember, the children have never thrown up after eating it. But now, and more stridently every week, I find another voice has entered the yoghurt debate. "Not that one!," it says. "The Rugrats/Pokemon/ Tweenies one!"

Up to the age of two-and-a-half, children are easily distracted. All you have to do is point in another direction and say: "Oh look! It's Santa Claus/Tinky Winky/The Cookie Monster!" Your child will turn around excitedly and find it's only a shop assistant. But while this might damage her psychologically, the important thing is it buys you enough time to get out of the dairy section.

It no longer works, however. Last week, for example, there was a major in-store incident when Daddy ruled against advice to buy a Bob The Builder cake. And thanks to Roisin's much-improved concentration powers, this became the theme of the whole supermarket visit. Not even the dairy section distracted her. The nagging only stopped when - thank God! - a man in a tiger suit promoting cereal gave her a free racing-car kit.

I know some people say that a pestering child is a badly instructed child. And, yes, of course, you can always stop and explain to a three-year-old why you're not buying something, provided you have unlimited time on your hands and the skills of a trained hostage negotiator. To be honest, I can still do this with my daughter when necessary, but sometimes I have to lie down for a while afterwards.

Even if you could control advertising aimed at kids, I know there are arguments against doing so. Greece has an all-day ban on TV toy ads, for example, and US toy manufacturers say that, as a direct result, Greek shops are supplied with only a limited range. Apparently, this is a bad thing.

It is also argued that Sweden's own TV controls have been circumvented by other forms of advertising. One can only hope this won't stop them working on alternative solutions to the problem. After all, Scandinavia is synonymous with enlightened parenting, but it is also responsible for the whole Santa Claus racket, which, as we've seen, is threatening to escalate.

It's a somewhat separate topic, I know. But news that the US has reacted to the foot-and-mouth outbreak by banning cloven-hoofed livestock from the EU - Ireland included - gives me another idea. Some sort of retaliation would seem to be in order. So if the Swedes are reading this, I suggest a ban on dinosaur imports.

fmcnally@irish-times.ie