He’s Really Watching

Sep 20, 2003

I didn’t think my son really enjoyed television.
Baby Eistein can hold his interest for a little while.
The Wiggles can grab his attention for minutes at a time. But
rarely does anything on the little flickering tube garner
any type of reaction from him. It’s not like he asks to
watch a favorite show. Of course, it’s not like he can talk
quite yet either.

But the other day, the wife called me down to show me the Wiggles
in a little bit of car trouble. It seems the engine of their
Wigglemobile was acting up.
The purple Wiggle, who my wife informs me is named Jeff, opens up
the hood and promptly gets a faceful of grease. There’s a pause,
a squirt, a pause, and a squirt. My son couldn’t hold himself
back. Each shot of grease brought about a howl of laughter. It
wasn’t a chuckle. It was a signature belly laugh. He was hysterical.

The wife swears it is his favorite show. Who am I to disagree? It’s
not like he finds The West Wing particularly funny.

I know. I know. As a good little parent I shouldn’t be advocating
my son’s involvement with that evil box of horrors. It’s not like
I’m looking for a
babysitter.
I was just happy to see his joyous response, even if it means I’ll
be fighting him for the remote from this point on.

by | Categories: family |

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