I noticed an advertisement in a local paper last week announcing that Bob the Builder would be appearing at a nearby mall. This is strange for a couple of reasons: first, I never looks at advertisements but I’m trying to change this behaviour because they often have this sort of information and also I try to stay away from the marketing machine that kids’ tv programming generally is. Toopy and Binoo must be Can-con (Canadian content), I figure since the only merchandise I’ve ever seen are French books in the Scholastic brochure. In any case, I asked Reid if she knew who Bob was and she said N (or someone) at daycare had a doll. That was good enough for me because I love live performances. We went early enough to get a picture of Reid standing in front of a giant poster of Bob the Builder and then took up our spot on the floor. We’d bought some M&M cookies and water from Subway and had a little snack while we waited.
Some guy named Marcus was the opening act. I think that he appears on Treehouse but we don’t watch it except for Toopy and Binoo and the occasional Roly Polie Olie. Marcus sang and danced around. He reminded me of a cross between Raffi and Robert Munsch. Reid seemed interested enough but wasn’t willing to dance or do the actions suggested. She is a bit shy at the beginning of each Kindermusik class, too.
Finally, Bob the Builder came out. There was some sort of a call-repeat with the “Can we build it?” – “Yes, we can.” And “Can we fix it?” – “Yes, we can.” Reid didn’t say a word. Many of the other kids, even those with Bob dolls and hard hats, were quiet, too. The parents, me included, called out the appropriate response . Reid watched everything intently but quietly until they were building the new sign and started holding letters up for identification. Reid couldn’t resist letters, she loves them too much and she called out their names. Within half an hour, it was over and we were on our way. Reid had much to say about Bob the Builder on our way home. She processes things and is quiet but she doesn’t miss much.