Anthony, Jeff, Murray, Greg and Sam:

My child said your name today. He grabbed the remote, pointed it at the t.v. and said, "Legulews". That is Sam speak for "Wiggles". Forget the fact that he adamantly refuses to say or sign "mom", I don't know how I feel about this. Part of me has always been a little concerned about a group of middle aged Australian men telling my son to "Wiggle and Learn", but, truthfully, one of your dvds can give me 45 to 90 minutes of time to get something accomplished in my day (depending on how many times we replay it). We've heard "Dance Like a Fish", "Big Red Car" and "The Joey Song" until we are ready to chuck heavy objects at the television. The other night, my husband put his hand over his face and said, "I just can't take this anymore". He left the house for a quick drive to the gas station and came back 45 minutes later with two empty packets of advil and a drained Dr. Pepper. I think 45 minutes worth of Metallica is what it takes to get the "Fruit Salad" song out of one's head. Sometimes I can actually feel my brain burning at the sight of the familiar blue, purple, yellow and red long sleeve t-shirts, the big green dinosaur that makes the "special" tea and the scariest looking octopus costume ever created. And yet, every time, every airing, our little Binky sits and stares as if he's watching the most fascinating thing since the fire pit in our backyard. As I sit here, contemplating our love/hate relationship, here are my positive thoughts:

I appreciate that you are here. There are days where the only thing that will cure a restless one year-old is a Captain Feathersword sighting.

I can be thankful that my son loves you more than the guy in the orange spandex who sings about how great hugging is on the Noggin channel.

And, finally, even though Andy wishes he had pointed at the t.v. and said, "Top Gear", we are very thankful that he didn't point and say, "Jerry Springer."

I guess there is always a silver lining.


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