Eh oh, I've been Igglepiggled

Victoria Hawkins: I think I've been Igglepiggled. Or maybe that should be Upsy Daisied. Whatever, I have just spent a weekend with a 15-month-old with the almost inevitable conclusion that Mr H and myself found ourselves becoming familiar with the ways of Into the Night Garden which, as I write, is being pulled from CBeebies' Bedtime Hour.

Victoria Hawkins

I THINK I've been Igglepiggled. Or maybe that should be Upsy Daisied. Whatever, I have just spent a weekend with a 15-month-old with the almost inevitable conclusion that Mr H and myself found ourselves becoming familiar with the ways of Into the Night Garden which, as I write, is being pulled from CBeebies' Bedtime Hour. Angry parents have launched a petition on the Facebook website for it to be reinstated.

It's a place you probably wouldn't want to venture into on your own at our age if you didn't absolutely have to. In fact, stumble in by mistake and could be forgiven for thinking that you'd hit the cooking sherry rather too hard. However, it certainly had a magical effect on young Jack, who was delighted to be meeting up with his friends again in his own little TV world.

Slightly more disturbing was the fact that both his nearly 30-year-old parents, who hold sensible well-paid public sector jobs, were also sitting back mesmerised, eyes slightly glazed (then looking after a toddler on full batteries for hours on end also has that effect), singing along all the words to the songs. And when at one point an exasperated Mr H wanted to know who the beige retard was at the back of the screen, he was howled down with a: “You can't say that, it's Makka Pakka.” As in 'akka wakka mikka makka moo' and his Og-pog. Suitably shushed, the programme carried on - and on - there was more. Like the Tombliboos and the Pontipines (who mummy and daddy Jack don't care for). We were spared the Wottingers but failed to escape both Ninky Nonk and Pinky Ponk, which are respectively a train and an airship.

By the time the Haahoos had billowed into view Mr H and I had almost lost the will to live and had to pour large gins. Now peace is restored in the kingdom of Hawkins. The baby has gone and once we've re-fixed the oven dinger, one of the phones and the dishwasher switch, which he also tampered with, it will be just as it he was never here. Eh oh.

But what'll they watch now at 6.30pm?

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