That is until The Kid came along. We didn't want to fill her head with a bunch of junk, but we couldn't seem to get through most days without the glowing box shining brightly in our living room. So we started with Baby First TV, which gave us the scintillating shows Harry the Bunny, Fred and Fiona, and VocabuLARRY. We have since transitioned into harder core toddler television. Now our days start with Little Bill and end with Wibbly Pig.
And here's my dirty little secret, I like these shows. Little Bill is smartly written, and we nicknamed The Kid's great grandmother after Little Bill's grandmother, Alice The Great. I like the little Spanish lessons Nina sprinkles into the Good Night Show. But I'm starting to develop a bit of a love/hate relationship with the genre. One reason can be summed up easily by saying Caillou. Not all is bad however, here are a few of my observations having watched the genre for a year now:
- As much as I like The Pajanimals, the fact that they never involve their parents when Squaky, SweetPea Sue, CowBella, or Apollo have problems disturbs me. Aren't parents supposed to be the first line of defense for all kids, not randoms from the neighborhood?
- I can't watch Tree Fu Tom without laughing because he really is a dead ringer for my friend Grace's husband.
- Doesn't Peppa Pig's dad, Daddy Pig, sound just like the announcer on Sarah and Duck?
- Why do the British and Canadians produce most of the good children's programming?
- In case you're wondering, apparently the answer to, "how much stuff can you stuff into a Stuffie until your Stuffie's stuffed enough stuff," is a lot.
- Speaking of which, Sprout airs way too many commercials.
- Mio Mao makes me wish claymation was still en vogue.