Monday, August 20, 2012

Mosh Pits and Pottys at The Wiggles

This past weekend we took another new step in the world of parenthood. We took Lady Baby to see The Wiggles. Have you ever been to a live show based on a children’s TV show? Have you? Then you know. It is serious bid-ness. As I may have mentioned I have a little crush on the Blue Wiggle. This was not an excuse to stalk him. Though he did look very dashing with his salt and pepper hair. And buff in his blue skivvy. Ahem, it wasn’t about me. Really it wasn’t. It was for Her Highness. It was.

Lady Baby is busy staring at hobos and
people registering to vote. 

We live in NC. We drove to Delaware to see the inlaws and then toodled over to PA to see The Wiggles. That is like 752 million miles to see four dudes dance around with a life size dog, dinosaur and octopus. Totally worth it, my friends. We opted for the 11:30 am show, because after about 2 pm my delicate flower starts to turn into a raging lunatic who cries for no reason and stomps her feet a lot. So we left in-law manor at 9:45am to travel the 50 minutes to Upper Darby, PA. Though I was SCOFFED at, I was all, “Thou shalt not be late for The Wiggles. You WILL not make us late driving around an unfamiliar yankee town.” We got there with about 20 min to spare to get our popcorn and go to the potty. Ah, the potty. Let me take a moment. This was a very old theater. Apparently back in the day everyone went pee-pee before they came to shows, because from what I could tell there was one ladies for the entire sha-bang. In order for Lady Baby to recieve her much coveted box of popcorn she had to go tinkle. She agreed, but not with what I'd call a positive attitude. I should have let her pee her pants while eating the popcorn. Little secret people: every person under 5 at a kid’s show must be forced to pee before sitting through $45 worth of live show. Also, only their mother’s take them to the bathroom. So the line for the girl's tinkeltorium is about 5,000 deep, and ¾’s of those people are angry kids who want their snacks and to see the Wiggles dammit. Mine included. Did I mention that there is no air conditioning in the hole? This is what jail must be like. Her Highness begrudgingly sat on the potty and despite herself, peed. By the time we exited worlds smallest cubicle I had a full body sweat happening. As soon as we left the stall she started screaming “no wash my hands” so I had to weave through the other 4,998 moms and kids staring at me while I said, “we will just use a wipe on them, please chill. stop yelling.” I know they knew I didn’t really have any wipes. We all pretended that it wasn’t a lie. Even though it totally was.
We met Dada and had three different ushers take turns guiding us down the 100 feet to our seats, all atwitter to get our Wiggle on. I can admit I was the most excited. Except for the twins sitting across the aisle from me. They were completely unhinged. More about them later. We got settled and were seriously only about 10 yards from the stage. Perfect for us to see the hotness of the blue wiggle the charisma of The Wiggles up close and personal. Hubs told me to turn down my phone. I pointed out that we were surrounded by hordes of screaming children jacked up on pure commercial driven enthusiasm. Pretty sure an atomic bomb could go off and no one would hear it. 
The lights go down, Lady Baby panics and jumps in my lap, and the Wiggles come out in all their Wiggly Glory. They looked a little more tired, a little older, and just as enthusiastic as they are the TV. Impressive. Obviously they have their own bathroom. They danced and sang and were awesome. Halfway through, Toodles told me she had to potty. Super. Because the first trip was so fun. Walking up the aisle at a children’s show is like walking through a teeming crowd of miniature slam dancers and people who are so moved by the spirit to dance they go into one of those convulsing fits. We get back to the 100 degree bathroom and much to my relief there was no one down there but an attendant who then watched with interest as we had a Family- Come-to-Jesus when Her Majesty denied needing to potty once we were outside the stall. I gave up and shrugged at the attendent. She stared mouth open when I was my child screamed banshee style on repeat that we didn’t need to wash hands and then refused to hold my hand going back up the stairs. Attendant woman actually said, “OH MY. She’s a handfull.” When you are the worst the bathroom attendant has seen at a Wiggles concert, well folks, that is saying something. Back down the dancing-child gauntlet we went. When we almost reach our seats, there is Jeff the Purple Wiggle, grooving along the aisle, mobbed by his tiny adoring fans. My child is so freaked out that she turned and attached herself starfish style to the closest adult, which unfortunately was not me. I peeled her off one very shocked man's crotch and carried her shaking back to our seats. I suppose the Wiggles are good from far, but far from good. I get it. Seeing a star up close can be disconcerting. The only other exciting thing was when the aforementioned twins started their own mini mosh pit. A poor unsuspecting little girl got caught unawares between the two zealous twins and ended up on her back. Her mom had to come pluck her out of the twin sandwich. The Wiggles drive kids to do crazy things. The rest of the show was great. We danced, we sang, we giggled and wiggled. 
We left PA, and the only real mishap happened at lunch. Lady Baby was so hungry and tired, that her evil twin emerged, the one that refuses to eat much of anything at lunch but chips and a brownie. Apparently she lost herself in the awesomeness that was this brownie, because she turned to me with a mouthful of choco-goodness, made a funny face, and said "I having an accident." Right there in the chair, in front of god and everyone. Lovely. Costume change, wrap tinkley clothes in paper towels, and make hurried exit, hoping that no one noticed the smell of outhouse hovering around us. Really a minor incident for a big day, especially considering that I saw three children having to be carried out of the show screaming and one being tackled by her own mother and held down because she was so overcome with The Wiggly Spirit. I will take wee-wee panties over rolling on an auditorium floor while my toddler probably bites me any day. 

You should totally see The Wiggles live. Good times, my peeps. Good. Times.


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