Saturday Morning Cartoons Were a Privilege—And Kids Today Don’t Deserve Them

Oh, hell yes. Back when Saturday morning cartoons were a privilege, not some 24/7 on-demand participation trophy for kids who whine loud enough. You think you “love” cartoons? Please. If you didn’t suffer through an entire week of school just to earn that precious Saturday morning lineup, you don’t even know what real dedication looks like.

Back in the day, Saturday mornings weren’t just for cartoons—they were a full-scale event. You had one shot. There was no pause button. No rewinds. No “I’ll watch it later.” You missed an episode? Tough luck, kid. You’d better hope one of your friends saw it, and even then, they’d butcher the recap worse than a bad game of telephone.

And the struggle before the cartoons? Brutal. First, you had to wake up at the crack of dawn, because those golden hours of animated greatness didn’t last forever. You overslept? Boom—you’re stuck watching golf with your dad. And let’s not forget the real challenge: navigating commercials. These days, kids just tap “skip ad” like entitled little tyrants, but we? We had to sit through them. Every 7 minutes, some ridiculous toy ad would hijack our screen, taunting us with things we couldn’t afford and making us reconsider our entire Christmas wishlist on the spot.

And you couldn’t just half-watch these shows, either. Oh no, you had to be fully locked in. Because if you weren’t, good luck following the plot next week—assuming they even bothered to air episodes in order. That’s right, kids: TV networks didn’t care about continuity. One week you’d get a season finale, the next? A random episode from three seasons ago. Pure, unhinged chaos.

But when you did get that perfect Saturday lineup? Magic. Pure, unfiltered bliss. You’d sit there, cereal in hand, absorbing every glorious, hand-drawn frame like a religious experience. This was earned happiness, a reward for a week spent dodging pop quizzes and surviving cafeteria mystery meat.

Now? Now kids have entire streaming libraries at their fingertips. They don’t have to plan. They don’t have to wait. They just demand their favorite show whenever they want, like tiny cartoon tyrants. Where’s the struggle? The suffering? The respect?

You know what? They don’t deserve cartoons.