Where did the cynical media bitch go–that inner snarkmeister who insisted, pre-child, that Barney is the devil and will never set one blubbery purple foot in my living room or anywhere near it should I eventually procreate.
(This is not to be confused with my cat, by the way, who is indeed The Devil. Barney is just a devil. Perhaps one of Desi’s minions, here to do her bidding on earth.)
This morning, barely more than one year after giving birth I found myself doing the previously unthinkable: I tuned into Barney.
I went right to the kids on-demand channel, scanned past Bob the Builder, Teletubbies, and even (gasp) Sesame Street, and clicked on Barney.
Now it’s not as if I’ve come to love Barney; bite your tongue! The kids on that show tuck their shirts into their jeans in that way that’s sure to get you beat up behind the tire swings during lunchtime. The black kids look like they were cast from the Bryant Gumbel school of ethnic diversity, ready to break out into Tie a Yellow Ribbon any minute. Not one song has a modicum of soul to it, and the rhyming schemes surely have Mr. Geisel rolling over in his grave. The dance moves (Jazz hands, everyone! Jazz hands!) make me want to kick the choreographer in the face with his own 80s-era Capezios, and the dinosaur’s voice – my God, if there is one voice on this planet that could inspire spontaneous seizures it is most certainly not Mary Hart’s.
But you know what I’ve learned about being a parent? That walking around town with maple syrup on my pants is not the worst thing in the world. Also: It’s not all about me anymore.
And so this morning I put on Barney. Voluntarily. Of my own free will. For my daughter, who seems to like the bloated beast, bless her undiscerning little 15 month-old heart. I even sang along with the songs for her.
The things we do for love.
64 shards of brilliance… read them below or add one
I have, on occassion, suufered through Barney, too. Fortunately, it is not one of the kids’ favs and the older one will sometimes spontaneously clean all the toys off the floor while singing the “Clean Up, Clean Up, Everyone do their share” song.
Those kids are actually aliens. I’m sure of it. Next time put on your tin foil hat and you can hear what they are REALLY saying to your child.
It’s Dora for me. Barney I’m lucky enough to have avoided, but god help me, when she was sick last month I totally caved and bought a Dora DVD and let her watch it endlessly, although I hate that little kid.
I have taken it a step further and say to my son, “Barney loves eggs and cheese, can you eat a bite like Barney does?” My son is a teeny, non-eater type, so whatever works. But I never thought I’d see the day either! Seems the show teaches good lessons though. Look both ways when you cross the street set to music sticks in your head…Lisa
Wait until your child is older… maple syrup and Barney will seem like chump change in the piggy bank of sacrifice.
Oh, I’m still stuck on the fact that your kid will actually. watch. TV. Trust me when I say that Barney is a small price to pay for a half an hour of an entertained child so that mommy can take a shower/drink a cup of coffee/answer an email.
My husband and I were just talking with my 15 year old about how addicted he was to that purple dino when he was young. We even hired a purple dino and green dino along with the backyard gang for my 14 year olds 1st b-day. SO…putting on an episode for Thalia must seem so minor now compared to the extremes we went to for the children. My oldest said he doesn’t remember a single song, so I broke out onto:hey mr. knickerbocker boppity bop I lika the way that you boppity bop hey mr knickerbocker boppity bop …..Oh yeah …..it clicked right back in his head.Perhaps I should have used the subliminal messages for something more useful than mr. knickerbocker.
I used to work at this really popular nightclub in downtown Detroit. So one halloween a costumer sent us a barney costume by mistake and everyone thought it would be funny for someone to wear it around the club that night. So I volunteered. Well, I got locked out of the service entrance at one point, wearing the costume, and it just so happened a performance of Sesame Street live was letting out down the street. I was instantly mobbed by children. Picture me in a Barney costume banging on the service entrance trying to be let back in with about 15 3-year olds literally grabbing my ass. Hahaha.
I had a friend in high school who was actually one of the kids on that show for awhile. It haunted him FOREVER.I took the baby to my grandparents’ house the other day, where they still have a lot of kids toys from when my cousins and I were little. They almost pulled out the Barney toy, but I insisted the baby play with a broken merry-go-round thing instead.
I was so there with you. (And I didn’t know we had kiddos almost the same age!) But talking of music with soul, has anyone seem that darn “Blue Zoo Train” song? It’s on one of the darn kids channels on cable. Blech. That song will stick in your head for days!Barney is a sure sign you love your children more than yourself.
Perhaps the best thing about becoming a parent is losing your selfishness and realizing that there is not one thing you wouldn’t do for your kid. Not one.
i have yet to partake, but i’ve been told that barney isn’t as bad as we all made him out to be. still, i resist.but i know for certain if mina suddenly took a shine to him, i too would be watching the stupid purple dinosaur.
In this post I see my televised future.I am afraid. Hold me.
Yep. I capitulated too, and it was mercifully brief. May your time in Barney Purgatory be short as well.