![]() ![]() There’s a trenchant and transfixing quality to those seven-and-a-half minutes, and I know I’m not the only one who thinks this. Whenever “ Sleepytime” comes on, I stop what I’m doing and watch the entire thing. There is one particular episode of Bluey that stops me in my tracks every time it happens to play. His devil-may-care spontaneity and the way in which he hurls himself into the expansive imaginary worlds of his daughters. I must confess that there are certainly times when Bandit’s fathering proficiency plays the law to my own less-than-exceptional paternal instincts. Of late, Bluey’s dad, Bandit, has received attention for the way in which he is portrayed as the dad who “always plays the games right,” as Tom Lamont put it in the Guardian. Each installment is composed of the fundamental ingredients of creativity, joviality, and a depth of youthful imagination. Clocking in at barely eight-minute bite-sized episodes, Bluey is a masterclass at both captivating kids’ attention and conveying cohesive stories. I’m fairly confident you’ve heard of Bluey by now ( Season 3 just released on Disney+ on Wednesday). The show’s title character and her Blue Heeler family are endearingly animated engaging in a wide variety of family activities, from the meaningful to the mundane. One such example is the rambunctious escapades of one very precocious Australian Cattle Dog (a.k.a. And, if the premise isn’t completely grating, you actually find yourself enjoying those ten-to-twenty-minute blocks of loosely educational but incredibly colorful entertainment. Eventually, those childish plots and cartoonish characters begin to speak to you as a parent. Needless to say, there’s something strange that happens after you’ve watched - or, at least, been in the same room as - all those hours of programming designed to keep kids entertained. To which I would say, mind your own dang business. Some sociologists or parenting experts might deign to think that I’m obfuscating my parental responsibilities with an inordinate amount of pixels. I won’t try and justify the heap of screen time you might be imagining my kids accumulate. ![]() In a manner of speaking, I must thank Elsa for raising my first two children - and soon I’ll be doing the same with the Madrigal family, since they are already doing a pretty good job with my third. I know both Frozen films by heart and I’m almost there with Encanto. I’ve made it through all available episodes of Peppa Pig, Sofia the First, My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse too many times to tabulate. If anyone else thinks they have grounds for confidence in their children’s cinema acuity, I have more (Phil 3:4). Suffice to say, I’ve earned my merit badge. A rite of passage for most, if not all, millennial dads is watching an inordinate amount of children’s television. ![]()
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