I haven’t a clue how popular or obscure Blippi is out there beyond the walls of this house.  Not a clue.

Over here his videos are the go-to toddler intoxicant to smooth over the early morning madness of necessary bathroom time, finding clean underwear, steamrolling wrinkles out of my shirt with friction heat, preparing some sort of “lunch”, and checking the clock every time it’s within sight.  Yay Blippi!

My armpits still stink and I realize that I forgot to use soap.  Not a problem.  I’ll shower again.  Yay Blippi!

My stomach’s about to explode from last night’s chip and dip.  Better go do it fast, but no worries about my toddler climbing the table and swinging from the Christmas tree.  Yay Blippi!

Who the hell is texting me at 6:30 am?  Oh wait, that’s not a text, it’s my phone buzzing to remind me to check the sports scores.  And the highlight videos.  I don’t have time, but I make time.  Yay Blippi!

My toddler doesn’t like change.  As in, change out of his PJs, out of his diaper, sneak on his clothes, his shoes, even his coat.  All while he is mesmerized by the man called Blippi.  Yay Blippi!

Now, how to turn off Blippi and make the dash for life to the car?  I know – promise my toddler a donut with sprinkles on the way to daycare.  Yes, that does contribute to my running for the sarcastic “Father of the Year” award, but you gotta do what you gotta do.  It’s a jungle gym out there.

DRAGONE out.