Since there’s not much else going on in the land, let me share with you a shocking conclusion I came to during my holiday.
The Wiggles are infant crack. When given to a small child complaining and playing up in the back seat of a car during a long trip, the effect is immediate and frightening.
A couple of verses of Fruit Salad, Yummy Yummy, or Big Red Car and they become pliant creatures, willing to do anything their parents tell them – so long as you don’t turn the music off. And if you do push the stop button, may God preserve you from the wrath of your children!
But even worse is when those tunes get into your own head. I should be unmoved by the various adventures of Captain Feathersword and his friends Wags and Dorothy. And yet so insidious is the stuff the Wiggles put in their tunes that the music soon dominates your thinking. You could be in an important meeting with a client and suddenly find yourself on the table chanting “quack quack cocka-doodle doo!”.
My advice to those of you thinking of introducing your youngsters to the joy of the Wiggles is this: don’t do it. Not just because of the kids, but to protect yourself and your relationship. Do you really want to be in the throes of passion while “Lights, Camera, Action, Wiggles!” rages in your head?
I have always thought the Wiggles' outfits look like those 1960s Star Trek uniforms. But this now makes sense. Maybe they are from space, sent down here to enslave us and our children. Beware!