Like I mentioned, we’re spending Thanksgiving with the friends in Northern California (it rains up here, y’all! I did not plan for this!) who have an adorable two-year-old, birthed when we were right in the middle of infertility hell. I’m finding it much, much easier to get along with L now that there’s no baby misery at issue.
Their daughter, though, is at that age where she wants to watch the same thing over and over, just kind of as background noise. When my sister was little, this meant my brother and I suffered through the Disney Channel puppet abomination “Dumbo’s Circus” every goddamn day, first thing in the morning, before school, so we’d have that theme song stuck in our heads all day. (That link is included for illustration but NOT RECOMMENDED. Stay away. Save yourselves.)
So the fact their daughter is in love with the Mandarin version of “My Friends Tigger and Pooh” is really a blessing in comparison, but that theme song is still going to be in my brain until the day I die.
I feel like I should call my mom and apologize for “The Brave Little Toaster.”