It’s Wiggie Time!

We have been assimilated. I’d been holding out hope, in vain I now realise, that we might be able to pass the Wiggles by. No such luck.

We start each day now with stringent cries of "Wiggies!" from JFGP. It doesn’t matter that he can’t
pronounce their name properly, it’s abundantly clear that he wants to watch one of the many DVDs we have magically acquired and that there is going to be trouble if he doesn’t get his way. Watching him watching the gurning loons is quite a disquieting experience. If I had to come up with an analogy I’d have to say that Yummy Yummy is like crack for the under twos.

Thankfully I do get to escape to work on weekdays, so I’m not subjected to inane sing alongs every single day. Even so, with every rendition of "Romp-pomp-a-bloody-chomp" I can feel a little bit more of my brain seeping out of my ear. Hopefully I won’t degenerate to the same extent as a chap I used to work with. Deathwish (for that is his official nickname) would often sit at his desk working away and not realise that he was humming the tune to "Wake up Jeff!". How we laughed at him. Then.

I consider myself doubly lucky. As SWMBO says, it could be worse. He could be hooked on the Hooley Dooleys. A small comfort, but better than nothing.

Oh, and their web site is an awful piece of design. They should strive to at least get into the late twentieth century, or even join the rest of us in the twenty first.