It’s interesting how something changes, although it is precisely what it was before. When I was a young child, I loved watching Fraggle Rock.

Dance your cares away,
Worry’s for another day.
Let the music play,
Down at Fraggle Rock.

Work you cares away,
Dancing’s for another day.
Let the Fraggles play,
We’re Gobo, Mokey, Wembley, Boober, Red.

Dance your cares away,
Worry’s for another day.
Let the music play,
Down at Fraggle Rock.
Down at Fraggle Rock.
Down at Fraggle Rock.

We were recently enjoying a lazy evening around the house and decided to find something to stream via Netflix. Sarah went to the kitchen to make popcorn, while I perused the “Watch it now” list on Netflix.com.

“What we watching, daddy?”

“What ARE we watching, daddy?” I corrected. “I don’t know yet, I’m still looking.”

“What ow we watching, daddy?”

“I don’t know. I just told you I don’t know. Why aren’t you listening to me?”

“We watching a mooooovie?”

“Tyler. Seriously. We’re not going to watch anything if you don’t let me see what there is to watch.”

Tyler paused, seeming to process my last statement. I returned my attention to the screen, scrolling past Bob the Builder, Thomas the Train, and a plethora of other shows that I honestly couldn’t care less about.

“I want to watch something.”

I closed my eyes, and chose to just ignore Tyler. Then, I saw it. Season one of Fraggle Rock.

“Sarah,” I shouted across the house, “how about Fraggle Rock?”

The reply – and excitement – was immediate. “YES!”

As I clicked the appropriate links and booted up the Wii, I told Tyler what we were going to watch.

“I not want to watch Flaggle Rock.”

“Tyler, you don’t know what you want. You’re going to love Fraggle Rock.”

From start to finish of episode one, of season one, Tyler’s eyes were glued to the screen. When the episode ended, he said “Want to watch another one.” So we did.

The beauty of Netflix is that you can stream these shows commercial free. Each episode is approximately 22 minutes. For roughly 44 minutes, Tyler laughed at Sprocket, learned about Fraggles, Dozers, and the King, Queen and Prince of the universe (the Gorgs). He giggled madly when the Trash Heap appeared and spoke with her rats.

Sarah and I? We spent those 44 minutes giving each other strange looks. We whispered to each other.

“Do you remember this show being this bad?” I asked.

“No. I used to like this show,” she replied.

“Me too! Loved it. You know there’s 5 seasons of this on Netflix?”

“Amazing…”

“I wonder if our parents thought this show was as stupid as we think it is now.”

“Hahaha… I bet. I feel bad for them now.”

“WAIT! Doc… Look at him. Isn’t that the guy who’s in Boondock Saints? The dude that has Tourettes?”

“Oh my God. That is totally him. Hahahaha.”

Doc. The old guy that runs the workshop with his pet dog, Sprocket. He, strangely enough, also plays Doc in Boondock Saints, where one of his more memorable quotes in the movie is “Why don’t you make like a tree, and get the f— outta here?” Unbelievable.

A couple days ago, Sarah was having some rather strong contractions, and I was suffering from some intense neck pain. We decided to have another lazy evening. It was well deserved this time, though. Earlier, Tyler and I bundled up and played out in the snow with Delilah for a while. Then Sarah and Tyler played with dinosaurs and Legos. As the evening progressed, we just wanted to snuggle up, so I asked Tyler if he wanted to watch some more Fraggle Rock.

“YES,” he replied without hesitation. “I love Fwaggle Rock.”

Although watching the show through an adult’s eyes makes me realize that the show simply isn’t that good… I’m kinda looking forward to making my way through the 96 episodes.