My son doesn’t watch Caillou.
Caillou is the show that provokes the most anger and disdain from most of the parents I know, online and off, but I’ve never seen it! I know of its reputation, and I understand that the fact that Detective Munch doesn’t watch it is probably a good thing (although some friends of mine swear it’s oddly soothing), but I’ve escaped its wrath.
Which isn’t to say my son doesn’t watch other shows that drive me to drink.
The fact that we can pick and choose what our kids watch, and when, is a major relief, for both of us. He can choose what he likes, and stream it on Netflix whenever he wants. And if he decides he likes something I can’t stand? He can watch it later, when I’m otherwise occupied. When we were growing up, we – and our parents – were forced to endure whatever show happened to be on when we flipped on the television. I remember a lot of “Captain Kangaroo” and “Kids Incorporated” and I’m shocked my parents didn’t give me up for adoption as a result.
I’m lucky that the Detective remains blissfully ignorant of Caillou, but his relationship with television has had plenty of other low points. He has cycled through a lot of different shows during his short time on earth, and while I will always be thankful for TV (to paraphrase Mr. Show, TV is a nickname and nicknames are for friends and television is a good friend of mine!”) and the free babysitting it provides, there are some less than pleasant aspects of my son’s relationship.
First, the good stuff. Sesame Street is essentially unassailable, obviously. I’ve also never minded Yo Gabba Gabba much; anything that introduces my kids to music is fine by me, and they often have real bands on the show to help with whatever lesson they were teaching that day. And Detective Munch is currently all over Scooby-Doo, which was a show I loved myself growing up. I’ve always been a fan of supernatural stuff, the modern show employs voice-actors from across the comedy world, there are plenty of knowing meta-references to pop culture and Scooby-Doo’s own formula. It’s fun for my son, and those times that I catch a bit of it, I’m fairly amused as well. (The movies? Not so much.) That all works for me.
But the loud unintelligiblility of Team UmiZoomi? The brazen, oblivious anarchy of Curious George? The adorable anthropomorphism of Octonauts? (Sorry, I love Octonauts!) The bizarre, seizure-inducing chaos of Yo-Kai Watch? And don’t even get me started on the freaky borderline-Claymation animation of Sid the Science Kid!
Let’s just say when my son watches TV, I get a lot of use out of the awesome pint glasses Netflix sent me for Father’s Day. (Octonauts excepted.) I love Octonauts!
What kids shows make you run to the liquor cabinet?
As part of the Netflix Stream Team, I was compensated with a year’s subscription to Netflix for a year and a Roku TV. But my opinions are 100% my own. Except for the ones Mom and Buried provides for me.