Is it a prerequisite that all children’s television shows must feature at least one creep?

Sadly, my son is already hooked. He sings The Wiggles theme song (I blame Daddy!).

Exhibit A: The Wiggles. A group of four grown men dressed in different colored shirts tucked in to spandex pants shaking their stuff is nothing short of creeptastic. They look like the disco version of the Star Trek Enterprise on speed. The Red Wiggle is Frankenstein with a sinus infection (no idea how he landed a singing gig), the Yellow one truly has a little too much shimmy in his shake, and the Purple Wiggle sleeps through every episode dreaming of his cash because he knows he’s off the creepy charts.

He's sexy and he knows it. The Blue Wiggle, Anthony Field, has been dubbed The Sexy Wiggle.

And then there’s the Blue Wiggle, Anthony. I know him by name because he’s got a George Clooney complex.

Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby.

The guy makes love to the camera because he’s convinced he’s God’s gift to desperate housewives stuck listening to “Hey There Shaky Shaky” on repeat. His meticulous sideburns scream “The Fonz”, his teeth sparkle white (I can almost hear the “ding” in my head when he smiles), his muscles bulge out of his too-tight costume, and he has a penchant for porn star mustaches in skits. Tone it down a notch, Anthony. I am not that desperate. Stop undressing me with your eyes while my husband is in the shower, okay? Isn’t anything sacred anymore, you creep? It’s a children’s show, dammit.

A picture is worth one thousand words.

Exhibit B: Mr. Noodle. Elmo’s high-pitched voice echoes in my head when I get up every single morning at 3:30 a.m. to pee (sign number 3,339 that I am getting older), but you…well, frankly, sir, you scare the eff out of me. A man named Mr. Noodle should not be entertaining small children. Period. Your face is mug shot-worthy, your clown costumes make me cringe, and your pantomimes give me the sudden urge for a sponge bath. I just feel gross watching you in all your creepy glory, with Elmo laughing annoyingly loud in the background (I can’t stand him either because my son started saying “Elmo” before “Mama”…no lie). Get the creep out of my life.

Why couldn't he just slip on a pair of loafers?

Exhibit C: Mr. Rogers. Okay, I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but he was a little creepy, no? With his button down red sweater, his tennis shoes that always needed tying, and his repeated pleas to be his neighbor? He said things like, “I think I’ll make a snappy new day.” Creeeeepy. And I grew up watching him. Maybe that explains a lot.


Oh, and I will throw in the whole Barney cast for good measure. A cast of creepy dinosaurs with outdated sneakers who sing like they have hot dogs stuck in their throats (get your mind out of the gutter; I don’t mean it that way…that’s what they sound like, okay?).

The prosecution rests. Case closed, right? Our children like creeps.

***What’s the perfect dessert for creeps to serve to our children? Sugar cookies! Mine are delicious…and not creepy. Promise.***

Sugar Cookies


2 3/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup softened butter
1 1/2 cups white sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 to 4 tablespoons buttermilk
Sprinkles or colored sugar, for decorating


Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

In a small bowl, stir together flour, baking soda, and baking powder. Set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together butter and sugar until smooth. Beat in the egg and vanilla. Gradually blend in dry ingredients. Add enough of the buttermilk to moisten the dough and make it soft, not wet.

Roll rounded teaspoons of dough into balls and place on a ungreased cookie sheet. With a brush or fingers, moisten the top of each cookie with the remaining buttermilk and slightly flatten the top of each cookie. Sprinkle with raw sugar or colored sprinkles.

Bake for 8 to 10 minutes or until slightly golden. Let stand for 2 minutes before removing to cool on a rack. Yum!

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