FAIL

It's happened. One of those "my kids will NEVER..." happened. See, I always took pride in the fact that MY kids only watch kids shows that I could tolerate. My children's baby-sitter was going to be high quality. That meant no fucking Barney.

Big D was born in 2001, right at the height of Barneydom. The few kids I had baby-sat for before Big D were completely and utterly addicted to Barney, so by the time I had Big D, I knew I had to keep him as far away from the dinosaur as I could. And it worked. Big D was hooked on a lot of other less migraine-inducing shows, like Blues Clues and Dora. Those I could handle. The cheesy, singing purple guy? No.

Sometime late last year, a good friend of mine sent me some of her daughter's outgrown clothes for Smella. Some of them were a bit too big still, so I tucked them away while we waited for a growth spurt. A couple of weeks ago, I dragged that box out, hoping to find some pj's for Smella. There was a Barney t-shirt. Barney and his good chums BJ and Baby Bop. I tried to quickly hide the evidence, but it was too late. "Mommy! Who is THAT?"

She has bugged me ever since that day to watch Barney. I have no idea how she knows Barney is a show. No one let it slip over here. So this morning, as Smella wore her t-shirt, she insisted I put Barney on right.this.minute.

In a moment of weakness, I did.

Not only did Smella thoroughly enjoy the show, her baby brother busted several moves to the chirpy, syrupy songs.

It only took one hit off the crack pipe that is Barney, and they're already scrambling to sell toys to get their next fix.

I'm not even sure they make new episodes, but On Demand has some.

They've watched two of them already.

I'm looking into DVRing some reruns that are on later this afternoon.

I should've torched that damn t-shirt.