What? You do know who The Wiggles are, right?
They're only, like, the biggest act in children's entertainment. Sold out shows around the globe. Packed arenas. The Wiggles are Aussie (duh!) and are based in Sydney. We've seen them play in smaller venues before and loved it.
Now, I know it's a thing for parents who are aspiring to maintain their pre-child identity to diss children's acts as uncool or whatever. But Reader, I will not. I love The Wiggles. (Um, did I just say "diss"? Do we still say that?) They are talented and genuine and you can tell that they really like what they do. And they're respectful of children. Plus, I enjoy a catchy tune. If their rendition of "Old Dan Tucker" doesn't make you tap your feet, you need to stop and evaluate your priorities in life. I will see your Yo Gabba Gabba "Don't Bite Your Friends" song and raise you The Wiggles' "Hot Potato".
No contest. Is all I'm saying.
They emailed me (well, me and a kajillion others) to say they'd be filming segments for their TV show that Wednesday and to respond to the email if we were interested in being a part of the studio audience. If we got a spot, the email said, one of their staffers would call us Monday or Tuesday to confirm. As their email had only come a few hours prior to my sending a reply, I thought for sure we'd get a spot in the audience.
I was so excited. I fired off a reply saying, yes please! We'd love to come! I realized later that the email asked for a few pieces of information that I didn't give--I'd been too eager to reply quickly and didn't read it closely enough. But I hoped that it wouldn't mess up our chances. I thought about sending another email, but then I thought that seemed pathetic. Like when you leave a message for the guy you like but you sound stupid, so you call back to correct it and leave another message that sounds even more desperate and pathetic? And then you wonder if you should call again? I'm speaking in hypotheticals here.
I decided to play it cool. Cause that's worked so well for me in the past.
I will allow my dorkiness to fully blossom as I tell you that I kept my phone on my person for the whole of those 48 hours. Every time it rang, I fully expected it to be a Wiggly staffperson. I kept thinking of how excited Ava and Nate would be. The anticipation of waiting for The Phone Call really brought back some memories.
(Cue violins. Softly, please.)
Alas, the Call. Never. Came.
I think it must've been some kind of mistake, don't you? I mean, if they could just meet me. If they could just get to know me, I'm sure they'd see. I'd make them see! Don't you think we would've been the Most Amazing Audience Members Ever? I'm sure they'd realize that I'm their Number One Fan. Right?
It's a bitter pill. But I am coping.