Baby’s got a new best friend.
Ok, well, she’s got a lot of best friends, all in a rotating cycle of preference. The top dog best friend of the moment, however, is Whoozit.
Whoozit is like this reject from the Muppet factory. Or Animal’s alien cousin from the planet Zork. Or how I would have seen Animal had my pre-pubescent self been on acid while watching the Muppets. (I of course would never take acid while watching the Muppets as an adult – which, by the way, I am totally up for. The Muppets, that is. Not the acid. You don’t need acid with the Muppets. Besides, it would just corrupt the purity of the Rainbow Connection.)
Anyway. Baby LOVES Whoozit. Or, at least, is fascinated by him. (Someday she’ll need to learn to distinguish between these two emotional experiences. But for now it’s fine.) Which is exactly what the Whoozit’s publicist promised – on the propaganda that comes attached to Whoozit’s arm – “Nothing engages babies quite like Whoozit.” It also informs that Whoozit is “Baby’s favourite friend,” and that “When you’re discovering the world, it’s good to have friends like Whoozit along.”
I’ll say. ‘Cause that world has got some rough ‘hoods and bad crowds.
This is the barnyard posse. These dudes are bad, yo.
They lurk near – OK, on – Baby’s rocker-bouncer chair. Every time, it starts out nicely – they’re all like, “Hey, Baby, whazzup?” and Notorious C.O.W. riffs on Old MacDonald and everybody’s down. But before long it gets real ugly – they start giving her the stare-down stink-eye and, I think, mocking her outfits – and it ends in tears.
So that’s where Whoozit comes in. Pull crying Baby away from the Barn Gang and sit her down next to Whoozit and everything’s fine. I think it’s a My Bodyguard kind of thing. Whoozit is way bigger and scarier looking than C.O.W., Lil’ Pig and Sheepie, but that’s the point. Whoozit could so take them.
So Baby says,”… and then they came at me like this!” And Whoozit goes and kicks some barnyard ass.
“Baby’s favourite friend.” Don’t leave the nursery without him.