My twin sons will celebrate their 17th birthday this week and I’m somewhat in denial that they’re no longer two years old and climbing over one another to greet me at the door after a long day at the office.
It seems like it was just yesterday when my then-two-year-old son, Matthias, was in love with a grown Asian man with sleep deprivation named Jeff.
His twin brother, Graham, never wanting to be out of step with his two-minute-older sibling, had a “thing” for a guy named Anthony, an Australian with an uncanny appetite for cold spaghetti, hot potatoes and mashed bananas.
Back then, Jeff and Anthony hung out on the Disney Channel with their equally-weird pals, Murray and Greg.
For those in the dark, I’m talking about “The Wiggles,” a four-member bar band-turned kiddie-entertainment troupe from the Outback of Australia.
If you haven’t seen them, count your blessings. If you’re a parent of small children and have seen them, I’m thinking of starting a support group.
Formed in 1991 by two of the original members, the band reached the peak of their popularity in the mid 2000’s – just about the time the twins were entering peak toddler television viewing age.
Back then, The Wiggles sang songs like “Romp Bomp a Stomp,” “Willaby Wallaby Woo,” “Munchy Crunchy Honey Cakes” and “Havenu Shalom Alechem,” which is especially popular among Jewish fans of The Wiggles.
The characters, who apparently didn’t have jobs, drove around all day in their “big red car” and hung out with a strange assortment of friends which happened to include a dinosaur named Dorothy, a dog named Wags, an octopus named Henry and a one-eyed pirate captain who ran around tickling everyone with his sword made out of feathers.
And our kids loved them all.
Unfortunately, it eventually became a serious problem at our house.
Matthias, the elder twin, used to wake himself up like a human alarm clock at 2 o'clock each morning and saunter into the room proudly declaring: “I wanna watch da Wiggles.”
It always played out the same way:
Us: They’re asleep.
Him: Wake ‘em up.
Us: We can’t.
Him: Wake 'em up.
Us: Have you ever seen an angry Australian? It’s not a good idea.
Him: Wake 'em up.
Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, it was always the same:
Him: I wanna watch da Wiggles.
Me: It’s Sunday. They’re resting.
Him: Wake 'em up.
Me: We can’t. God wants them to rest.
Him: Come on, Dad. Everybody knows the Sabbath was actually on Saturday. Wake 'em up.
We bought them Wiggles t-shirts and Wiggles toothbrushes and all sorts of other branded goodies in hopes that would help sustain them in between Wiggle watching.
Unfortunately, the accessories just made matters worse. The boys soon quit using their real names and instead began calling each other by their favorite characters’ names.
They referred to me as Wags the Dog and their mother as Dorothy the Dinosaur.
I did the best I could to convince them they were being brainwashed by Aboriginal witch doctors, but they wouldn’t have it.
At one point, they convinced their five-year-old brother to go online to order $249 worth of character-themed bed sheets.
We probably should have called in reinforcements to intervene – especially after that one time I caught myself skipping down the sidewalk while singing nonsense about Australian dingos.
Fortunately, it was just a phase and both Matthias and Graham moved onto bigger and better things.
And it was a good thing.
By December 2005, Greg had to retire for health reasons. In 2013, Murray and Jeff bowed out to pursue other interests. The Wiggles empire had grown to the point that the original members each received a $20 million payout.
And 28 years later, the Wiggles name is still wiggling. These days, Anthony is joined on stage by Simon, a dude named Lachy, and a 29-year-old girl named Emma.
Back on this side of the pond, those little boys who used to absolutely love The Wiggles are now celebrating their 17th birthday.
Sometimes your life flashes right before your eyes – and sometimes it’s accompanied by four singing Aussies in a big red car.
David Gustafson, whose favorite Wiggles character was Henry the Octopus, is the not-so-mild-mannered editor and publisher of The PineBelt NEWS.
