This is the story of one very much loved shirt/singlet/tanktop and it’s sad, sad demise.
You see a few years ago before our household developed obsessions with Star Wars, Fireman Sam, Yo Gabba Gabba and every other childhood pop culture phenomenon from a seemingly endless list, we were DEEP into the Wiggles. So deep in fact that I walked hundreds of precarious steps from the top of the Rose Garden Arena right down to the floor level while 6 months pregnant, just so we could see the Wiggles do their thing LIVE, right here in Portland.
And I encouraged this obsession for the following reasons:
- The Wiggles are Australian
- The music is not too annoying (sometimes even catchy)
- They were one of the reasons I once heard my child say car with an Aussie accent (as in, Toot toot chugga chucca big red “CA”).
- Grandparents in Australia = lots of access to Wiggles-related paraphernalia that we can’t buy here (and easy suggestions for birthday gifts)
- The Wiggles are Australian.
Alas, the obsession came to an end at about the same time that Star Wars started taking over our lives (and our house).
But one little thing remained – an obnoxious little Wiggles tank top.
While I cursed the shirt’s existence every time I had to bribe my child to take it off so I could wash it, I admit that I appreciated this one small constant in the ever-changing world of toddler pop culture.
Of course there did come a time when, inevitably, Thomas outgrew the shirt and it was ceremoniously passed down to Curious George. He then enjoyed wearing it for a couple of years, including during at least one trip to Australia – a “coming home” of sorts for the shirt.
But then a couple of months ago the shirt began to show signs of impending retirement. First a small rip led to a bigger rip, and then this…
Even George couldn’t wear it any more. I thought Thomas would be devastated and, to be honest, he was a little sad when he realized that he would have to say goodbye, but after a couple of days I put the shirt aside and, like most things out of immediate sight for a five year old, it was quickly forgotten.
I held on to it for a while though, mostly because I wanted to take one last photo but, if I’m honest, it was partly because I was going to have a tougher time saying goodbye.
Last week I took a final photo and threw the shirt away (buried in the rubbish so a curious five year wouldn’t drag it out again). There were no tears, just a few small pangs of sadness from a mother who had to say goodbye to something more than just a shirt. (OK – I admit that was a little dramatic).
But now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure Samuel hasn’t yet seen every Wiggles episode that we have on DVD. I see a family movie night in our immediate future. I’ll have him saying “CA” in no time… “Beaudy Mates.”
Have a great weekend. I’ll be enjoying some sunshine and holding on to a little childhood.