This is a public service announcement.

Every seven seconds in North America, a preschool-aged brother and sister recite a tidy little rhyme around a magic stone thingie that sets off a chain reaction in which they are abducted into an alternate universe by possessed dragon wallpaper. Evidence suggest that these kids disappear several times a day for hours at a time, without the slightest measure of parental guidance.

Hi. I’m RockstarDaddy, asking you to please help. If you keep your children in their rooms for hours upon hours without hearing anything from them at all, we ask that you at least check to see if they’re still on this dimensional plane. Check the walls. And the dresser drawer. Please.

It’s for the kids!

Just a thought.

Also, is it just me or does the Island of Sodor have the most outrageous per-capita transportation accident rate on Earth? No way I’m getting on one of those possessed motherfucking trains.

I’m also convinced that Bob reanimates diesel construction equipment so that he can eliminate payroll and break unions.

– – – –

It’s choir night. RockstarWifelet gets her hallelujah on every Wednesday night. Sometimes she takes the portahumans, but tonight they’re all mine.

I love kid time, but it’s tough when I’m sick. My attention span doesn’t reach either side tonight. Anna’s in bed, Maggie’s on my lap watching PBS Kids Sprout, the 24 hour child sedation network.

Maggs is at the age where Teletubbies is fascinating.

Okay, so am I. Moving along..

Anna was a Noggin toddler, the original BabyCrack network that pretty much ripped Nick Junior straight up and removed the commercials. As much as I try to avoid the TV-as-babysitter mentality, the better shows like 1st generation Blues Clues (THERE IS NO JOE THERE IS ONLY STEVE), Dora, and others really helped her grasp language skills.

Almost too much, actually.