Children get the wiggles

"Caution, the moving walkway is ending. Caution, the moving walkway is ending. Caution....." Midway Airport, Chicago. I’m watching a little kid literally crying over his spilled milk (spilled by his little sister by the way in a fit of delight with her mayhem). Watched Mom do Mom things in exasperation. Watched Dad grab the Blackberry, all of sudden he was all about business. Then I went back to watching Cry-Face. He obviously dressed himself for the trip - big giant yellow stripe on the shirt - red, white and blue pin stripes on the pants. Although, you can’t blame him for the purchase, who put the crack in the neighborhoods? Anyway, now he’s settling in to an episode of the Wiggles on the portable DVD. The screen is fingerprinted and stained and greasy. That won’t stop him. Here it comes, euphoria. I see it forming on his cry-face. I wish I could remember when I could release and let the worries of the world ride out with the flick of a switch. I wish I could dress myself in big yellow stripes and red white and blue pinstripes. Nice. There’s a guy dressed up as a policeman marching on screen. Even at my most simple, I don’t think I get the Wiggles.