Oh yeah, Wiggle Time

Hi!
We're The Wiggles!
I'm Greg(/Sam)!
I'm Murray!
I'm Anthony!
I'm Jeff!

If you're wondering what in the wide wide world of sports the above is on about, you clearly haven't been a parent of a toddler in the past (two) decade(s).

If you do know these lines syllable by syllable, you've prolly just felt a little thump of dread in your heart, if only for the overuse of the exclamation mark. And because now you have a little one plonking themselves in front of a video for the ten millionth time unable to be crowbar-ed from position.

Sunday the 6th of December 2009 was clearly only ever going to be Wiggle(TM) Day in the Baghdad-end of Hampton. And for the rest of toddler Melbourne too it seemed. As this was the day the Wiggles(TM) came to town.
Live.
In the flesh.
If you think Elvis (pre triple peanut butter and bacon burger days) and MJ (pre baby dangling and detachable nose era) playing a double act, fresh from a tour of purgatory, would be big gig, well to a 2-4 year old, this is WAYYYYY bigger.

Ok, lets be honest.

Master M knew something about The Wiggles(TM) was about to happen, but in reality we think he imagined we were going back to Dreamworld/Wiggleworld, and hence he'd tootle about in the big red car for hours all mouth agape like last time, and maybe get a little freaked out by the occasional Gold Coast teenager dressed up in a dodgy Henry the Octopus suit.

Instead...
Well we arrived at Rod Laver Arena and Master M was instead a bit freaked out by all the kids and mums and prams outside.

It was a kid/mum/pram frenzy. (Dads optional.)

He composed himself and demanded he walk up all the outside steps on his own, which took us sometime into the next millennium.

Once inside and seated (about half way along, directly opposite the main circular stage, and about 10 rows up from the floor - very good possie we must say; thank you online booking and Google calender reminders of the very second the ticket box opened), he discovered the giant screen on the wall and hence sat, mouth agape, watching 15 foot high Wiggly adventures.
Plus the odd advert for Volkswagon (clearly, like McDonalds, they have a "get em while they're young" marketing philiosphy).
Master M was like a pig in poo.

However, when The Wiggles(TM) did arrive on stage...
He kept watching the screen.
"They're down there boy!" reminded dad.
He turned and looked at the stage.
Then back to the screen.
"No.. down THERE. That's the real Wiggles(TM)!!!"
He looked back.
Then it seemed to dawn on him slowly.
The real, live, yellow/blue/red/purple Wiggles(TM).

You could almost see a haze of daze come over his face.

After that he sat on his chair, then later on dad then mum's lap, with mouth agape (again).
Not clapping.
Not singing.
Not dancing.
Just jawdropped. (And just as he was at Wiggleworld).

At the very end of the whole show - literally when The Wiggle(TM) started saying their goodbyes - he waved back to them and clapped approval.

We suspect (just like at Wiggleworld where he froze like a statue but later claimed "I high-fived Henry!"), that over time he will be telling all and sundry that he was down there on stage wearing his own customised Wiggle(TM) green skivvy.

This was all in some contrast to little Miss S.

Much as mum and dad were somewhat fearful of the poor Miss being blasted with sound and made hearing impaired for life, wailing uncontrollably until she was marched out by security, she in fact loved it.
Absolutely loved it.
And was arguably more animated than her older brother.
She watched.
She listened.
She was ohhed and ahhed.
She decided it was interval and requested a drink, so mum gave her a feed, commendably there infront of the 5000 others, not that anyone would complain. Well, maybe one lot of people,... if they knew.

"Babe..." whispered mum to dad "I think I sprayed the people in front..."

When it all was over and the Wiggles(TM) were safely tucked away in Rod Laver's bowels gearing up for their next show in only an hours time, and after a quick chip frenzy ("NO DAD! They're MINE!") both boy and his amazingly animated Sis collapsed, necessitating a long carry of a partly comatose and hence dam heavy lump of a child back to the car where both kiddies slept like cherubs on the way home.
And then woke up.
Too early.
Both of them.

Hence the afternoon was, mmmm..., challenging.
Lets just say the naughty corner/mum-dads patience levels took a pounding.

Curse you Wiggles(TM).
If only for having us all singing "Monkey Man" (dad does a mean Kylie Minogue cameo) for the rest of the day/week, and putting on such a great show we'd happily go through it all again.

Still, if you cant beat them (even with a feathersword) you may as well join 'em.

Hi!
We're the Ws!
I'm Dad!
I'm Mum!
I'm little Miss S!
I'm Master M!

Postscript:
1) We bought Master M some merchandise.
He took said merchandise to child care the next day as he appeared to epoxy welded to it.
He fought with another boy over it.
It broke.
He announced "No problem" Santa would fix it (sheesh... we're rooted!).
2) Given the amount of sweat Murray (a.k.a Red) Wiggle(TM) was pouring out of his body - notably dripping on the floor below when sitting on a trapeze playing his guitar - after running up and down through the crowd, we were somewhat glad to hear he survived the day sans heart failure. Best lay off the dim sims and get back on the fruit salad (yummy yummy), Murray.
(But you're still dads favourite.)

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