Why kids' cartoons annoy the crap out of me, by me

I've been working on this little doctrine for awhile and am finally ready to post it. I wanted to address a subject that has long compelled me, one that's been the source of many a conversation with other parents: today's kids' cartoons/shows.

I've done so in part because it's funny to see who advocates which cartoon, and why. For example, I think that The Upside-Down Show is clever and amusing for adults, but most parents I've talked to dislike it intensely. Then there's Yo, Gabba Gabba!, which weirds me out but which plenty of parents—including T, but that may be just to annoy me—really seem to enjoy.

It's also been funny to watch, over the years, as football-weekend discussions have turned from sports and politics to debates over whether Little Bear is too much of a mama's boy and why he doesn't wear pants (more on the latter in a moment). I've found that any parent who's been exposed to cartoons for too long of a time—whether due to exhaustion, bad weather, illness, or the simple inability to amuse your child on your own without assistance any longer before you lose your freakin' mind—invariably forms opinions on said cartoons. I think it's some semblance of trying to hang on to your sanity/avoid dropping IQ points. So, in no order whatsoever, here are my unsolicited, deep thoughts on certain cartoons that I have been far, far too exposed to:

Little Bear (Noggin): This is a cartoon that on the surface seems rather innocuous, and I do have to appreciate that unlike other shows [cough *Oswald* cough], there were more than five episodes ever made, meaning that you stand a decent chance of watching one that, even if it's not new to you, you can't necessarily deliver a thesis on the dialogue and plot point. However, the aforementioned clothes issue bugs me. I mean, really bugs me. Little Bear dons a raincoat when it's raining. His friend Emily changes into a bathing suit to go swimming. And his entire family—including Uncle Redneck Bear (okay, that's not his name, but it's apt)—is fully clothed, so clearly, they are familiar with the concept of and are able to afford clothing. So why doesn't Little Bear wear any damned clothes?! Alas, I fear that this may be one of humankind's enduring mysteries.

Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (Disney): I must offer the disclaimer that I'm a rabid Disney fan. I even got married at Walt Disney World. I know, shut up. Anyway, naturally, I'm delighted that my daughter is already being indoctrinated into the club—literally. However, since it's a reasonably new show (we're either in the second or third season), there are only about 15 episodes, I would guess, floating around. Which means that from the first two seconds of an episode, I: a) know which one it is, b) can successfully name all of the Mousketools that will be used, and c) wonder again at the strange shift in Pete's character arc between the first season(s) and this one. But A loves it, so it stays on, leaving me much time to ponder random things about the show, including the background stories of the characters. For example, I think that the only reason Toodles hangs around is because Mickey's got some dirt on him. That's the only explanation why, less than a minute into the episode's particular challenge/quest/story, Mickey's already calling him up—it's because he's fucking with him. I picture Toodles hanging around the clubhouse having a smoke, and then suddenly Mickey cheerfully calls, "Oh, Toodles!" and the poor bastard has to drop everything and zip into action. He probably hates Mickey, really. And you can't blame him; every time Mickey calls for him, now, there's a little bit of a sinister overtone.

I also think that Mickey has the hots for Minnie, yes, but she's a "good girl" and won't let him go below the neck. So I think he's boinking Daisy on the side. Trust me on this—just watch a few episodes and tell me you're not picking up on that. And then there's Goofy. Heaven help me, I hate Goofy. I know that's kind of the point (if it's not, I don't know what is), but lately, I cringe whenever he mispronounces a word—"trombone-y" is the worst, by far—and I find myself hoping that an Acme two-ton weight takes him out. Really, he's on par with Jar-Jar Binks in terms of character annoyance factor. And that's saying a lot. Finally, there's a new-ish episode where they're looking for Goofy's hat, during which they sing a merry song that ends "now we have to find out where it's at!" The editor in me dies a little death every time I hear that particular refrain.

Max and Ruby (Noggin): Honestly, there's not much that I can say about this that hasn't already been said all over the Internets. I mean, there's even a Facebook group called "Where the hell are Max and Ruby's Parents?" Not that I joined or anything. Ahem. But seriously. Where the HELL are their parents?

Oswald (Noggin): Let me be quite clear about this: I totally fucking hate Oswald. I hate that his character is a pansy-ass doormat, I hate that every episode centers around him fretting about something entirely inconsequential, I hate that every episode lasts only about five minutes but feels like five years, I hate Fred Savage for voicing the character, I hate anyone or anything even remotely involved with this godsforsaken cartoon. Got it?

Thomas the Tank Engine (PBS, Sprout): Two words: Terminally dull.

Dora the Explorer/Go, Diego, Go! (Noggin, Nick Jr.): These two can be safely lumped in the same entry. You see, I used to dislike them both horribly, but I think I've developed annoyance amnesia with these two—they just don't bother me as much as they used to. Perhaps it's simply that I've directed my cartoon issues elsewhere, yet I find that I've gotten used to their eerie, Children-of-the-Corn-esque vacuous-smile stares as they wait patiently for me to answer a question. ("Do you see the beach?" "Yes, because I'm not bloody well blind.") Even Tico the Squirrel, my one-time arch-nemesis, has become nothing more than a mild irritant. I've escaped your web of terror, Dora and Diego. You no longer have a hold over me! BWAH HA HA HA HA!

The Wonder Pets (Noggin, Nick Jr., Hell): Of course, my near-indifference to Dora/Diego may be due to my newly honed focus on The Wonder Pets. This is one of those shows that, if I sense that it's coming on, causes me to dive across the room for the remote in slo-mo, Mission: Impossible style to change the channel before it can start. Because once it does, A insists on watching it and I end up contemplating suicide. This show actually surpasses my hatred of Oswald. It's created a new feeling of dislike, one so profound that I don't know if there's actually a word that could encompass it. From the same-damned-plot-different-day aspect of each episode to the feeble attempts at moralizing, this show embodies the worst of all cartoons out there today. I cannot make this point strongly enough. Were these characters real, I would cheerfully line up Linnie, Tuck, and the lispingly grating Ming-Ming and laugh maniacally as I threw grenade after grenade at them until the last refrain of "What's gonna work? Teamwork!" was nothing but a whisper in the wind. Then I would likely be carted away in a straitjacket, but that's another story for another day.

Pinky-Dinky-Doo (Noggin): This is one of those curious shows that I dislike but others, including T, like. I'm not sure I can pinpoint why I don't like it but I think that it may come down to one simple line that pops up in every episode: "Pinky, are you going to tell a story?" Yes. Yes, she is. Because that's ALL she does. And that's the only reason the entire show exists. So quit. Freaking. ASKING.

Oobi (Noggin): Seriously. It's a hand. With eyes. And it's wigging me out. Also: I get bad vibes from Grandpoo. But who wouldn't?

Yo, Gabba Gabba! (Nick Jr.): As I stated in my preface, this one is just plain weird. For one thing, half of the characters are just plain scary. The one that looks like a red condom Ribbed For Her Pleasure? The kitty with the Jaws-like teeth? The one with the freakishly long arms? Who came up with these? Then there's the fact that many of the segments are, like, only 10 seconds long. Seriously—what's with fostering the ADHD? Finally, the overall feel is that someone was tripping when the storyboard was created. Maybe if I dropped a tab, I'd appreciate the show more. I dunno. This is definitely a head-scratcher for me. And another one that I'll sacrifice life and limb to get to the remote in time to stave off because it is most certainly not Designed For My Pleasure.

Well, since this has all been a tad negative, I'll list, for the sake of discussion, shows that I do like. (Although I think I like The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, once you get past my psychological evaluation of the characters).

The Upside-Down Show (Noggin): As I previously noted, most adults that I've talked to dislike this show, many of them intensely. As also noted, there are only, what, seven or so episodes ever made? So you're looking at a lot of repetition (which is T's main complaint). Still, I think it's pretty clever, the adult humor makes me laugh (I'm easy that way), and I find the characters to be pretty well developed. Plus, A likes it, and it's rare enough that we're simpatico on these things.

Jack's Big Music Show (Noggin): It's creative, you've got lots of songs/videos, which A loves, and it's reasonably humorous. That works in my book.

The Backyardigans (Noggin, Nick Jr.): I confess, I will actually watch this one when I'm by myself, depending on the episode. And yes, I actually have favorite episodes ("Race Around the World," "Into the Thick of It," and "Stone on Hilltop High," thanks for asking). I can't help it—I love the way it stirs the imagination, I particularly love how they have a music theme for every episode (that disco is the theme for "Stone on Hilltop High" is one reason it's a fave), and the characters are unique (especially Uniqua, ha ha ha… ahem). A actually has a crush on Pablo, which is adorable, and I don't particularly blame her. Overall, it's a well-done, engaging show, enough so that I don't mind watching repeat episodes of it. Which, when it comes to children's cartoons, is a must.

Blue's Clues (Noggin, Nick Jr.): Please note that I do mean Blue's Clues, NOT Blue's Room, which is a travesty that I shall not even dignify with further words. (Seriously: Blue is not supposed to talk and she is certainly not supposed to be a puppet and she most definitely does not have a mind-gratingly-annoying little brother named Sprinkles! Way to kill the franchise, folks.) Um, back to the point. Yes. Blue's Clues was actually the first kid's cartoon I started watching back in the day when A was a non-sleeping baby (now she's just a non-sleeping toddler) and in my sleep-deprived state, I thought that it would be okay to have the tv on as long as it was a child's cartoon. However, I was unused to the proclivity of many of today's cartoons for the main character to ask a question of the audience and then stare blankly at you for a minute, giving kids time to answer. So I'd kind of start freaking out (remember: sleep deprived) and would snap, "Why are you looking at me? Stop looking at me!" But once I got the hang of it, I decided that I really liked the show. I don't know why; perhaps it's merely for nostalgia's sake, now. It does help that the show ran (in the more preferable format) for about 12 years, so you definitely have a good chance of seeing an episode you haven't seen 1,000 times. And both of the hosts (although I'm a Steve gal, myself; A prefers Joe) are innocuously pleasant enough and sell the naïve "gosh, who'da thunk" bit pretty well. Overall, it's cute, somewhat educational, and mostly harmless.

Franklin (Noggin): I know a lot of people don't like this one, and I'll agree that Franklin's inevitable whining is irritating, but I'm putting this one in the "like" list for only one reason: I have literally never seen a repeat episode of this show. That alone makes it worth its weight in gold.

Miss Spider's Sunny Patch Friends (Noggin): This one is a bit of a puzzle because I feel like it should annoy me but it doesn't. It's altruistic, it always delivers a moral, and Miss Spider is incessantly cheerful. Any one of those factors should make me hate it, much less all three. Yet there's some kind of intangible charm about this one—I find myself actually paying attention, often more than A. Odd. But I like it nonetheless.

Okay, not much more to say about any of the others at the risk of committing the foremost cartoon sin, that of mind-numbing repetition. Thoughts? Arguments? Medication?