With the competition reduced to four teams, this week's episode of I Know My Kid's a Star brings us to what might be thought of as the top of the homestretch. This is good news. It's almost over. Soon we will no longer be treated to mothers who say things like:

• "They nailed her to the cross."
• "At home I'm used to pushing her."
• "I don't want to get frustrated with you here. Tone it down and start to cry."
  

Nor will we have to listen to children who have more maturity than their parents but are forced to speak like parrots.

Alai: "Couldn't you just talk it out with her?"
Gigi: "She's a liar and how do I feel about liars?"
Alai: "You don't like them."

It was with a heavy heart that I watched, I Know My Kid's a Star tonight. Animals are treated better on sets than some of these children were on national television. I have to hope - and presume - that our animal protection societies are doing a better job than whoever is supposed to be looking out for the best interests of these children. I keep coming back to one word: appalling.

To be straightforward, I knew I wasn't going to like this show when I was asked to cover it. Whether it's sports, academics, or pageants - I hate seeing children pressured to achieve. Pressure undermines a child's natural inclination to learn and expand through play. Play by definition is not pressured. But as painful as it was to watch some of these children with their parents, it seemed even worse to watch them also being exploited for the benefit of the production company, advertisers and the adult "stars" who presumably were salaried to partake in this national display of child abuse.

Experts have stated that it costs somewhere in the neighborhood of $190,000 to raise a child to adulthood. Although some people dispute that figure, there is no doubt that, over the long haul, passing on your DNA can be one of the most expensive decisions that you will ever make. This is why I was particularly interested in my colleague Zac's recent post on Britney Spears' finances. You see, Brit's parents have clearly stumbled across the ultimate way to make sex pay. Forget about prostitution, blackmail, or becoming a trophy wife: real pros simply pimp out their kids.

It's not like this is a particularly new discovery, either. In fact, looking over the annals of showbiz, I find that the industry is littered with integrity-challenged parents or guardians who seem to have little or no trouble cashing in on their children's talent, cuteness, or marketability. Here, then, is a quick rundown of four of history's more questionable showbiz moms and dads. If I missed one of your faves, please feel free to send me a response. I'm always looking to extend my knowledge of human depravity!

Mary Hilton: In 1908, an English barmaid named Kate Skinner gave birth to a pair of beautiful little girls. She was unmarried, however, and wasn't sure how to take care of them. Adding to the difficulty, the girls, Violet and Daisy, were, literally, joined at the hip: their pelvises were fused, and their hips and buttocks were attached. Recognizing the entertainment value of a pair of Siamese twins, Kate's boss, Mary Hilton, bought the girls from Kate, gave them her own last name, and began making money off them. Using a combination of physical abuse and economic slavery (the twins didn't receive any money from their performances), Mary and her husband managed to control the girls for over 20 years. Finally, in 1931, the Hilton sisters sued their "managers" for $100,000 and independence. Within a year, they had recast themselves as dancing flappers and were pursuing a career of their own design.