Barney

I’m home with a sick child, who of course isn’t acting very sick.

She is showing off her mad skillz by putting on a Barney tape in her bedroom and putting Barney on Tivo in the family room (which are something like ten feet away from each other)

It’s like listening to somebody sing “Row your Boat” in rounds. Deliberately out of sync. While stepping on Baby Bop.

At least the freakin’ Hokey Pokey Elmo has fallen into a low-battery induced coma…

;)

A couple of weeks ago, the beautiful and talented Les sent me a few Wiggles items in the mail. Actually, she was a true sweetie and sent them to my daughter, who at the ripe old age of three has never received anything in the mail other than pre-approved credit cards and auto insurance offers.

To say she was thrilled would be an understatement. She tore into the package, yelled “Wiggles!” and ran to her room to put one in the player.

Minutes later, she announces “I want Barney.”

“Don’t you want to watch the wiggles?”

“No. Barney.”

It has been over a week, and every time I put one of the new discs in? “No. Barney.”

To say she knows her mind would also be an understatement. To say that I’m so sick of Barney that the Wiggles would be a huge improvement says something about me, I guess.

Thank you, Leslie, I promise one of us will be watching them…

The other day I asked the baby to run tell her brother that his waffles were ready. She shouted “Okay!”

Then she found the remote, paused Barney on Tivo, and ran on her mission.

She is three, folks.