Quick disclaimer: I haven’t watched Dora in years. I haven’t ever watched the spin-off Go, Diego Go. Or whatever it’s called. But I used to watch Dora. My niece was obsessed, and in fact, one year she insisted I needed a Dora cake for my birthday. Which I did. I also didn’t do research to see if these plot holes were address (or raised) on other websites. This is actually a re-creation of a conversation between my son his friend (both middle-schoolers, represented below as “Boy” because I can’t remember who said what) and me at dinner last night.
[The conversation begins with one of them asking why people say Mazel Tov, which segued into asking what Cinco de Mayo means. Which segued into a question about the Day of the Dead, which featured a comment that Dora the Explorer had a show about going to Mexico for the Day of the Dead. Or something.]
Boy: Dora lives somewhere in South America.
Me: I don’t think so. Pretty sure she’s American.
Boy: She hangs out with a Monkey, so she must live near a jungle.
Me: She doesn’t live in South America.
Boy: She’s from Mexico, originally, but she came over the border and her fox followed her.
Me: It’s not “her” fox. And no. He doesn’t even have an accent. What about the monkey?
Boy: She took it with her.
Me: You can’t just bring a Monkey into this country like that. It’s against the law. You can’t just go through a border check with a monkey and not get stopped.
Boy: She did. Where else would she get a monkey?
Boy: I still don’t think she lives in America.
Me: I’m just concerned that Boots will eventually chew her face off. I don’t think monkeys make good pets.