Dear Children's TV Presenters...

As a new mother (despite being six months in to motherhood, I use this term in the hope that it compensates for the fact that I still regularly need to reapply the ‘L’ plates) I have been recently re-introduced to the world of children’s TV.

The last time I watched children’s TV was (with the exception of some brief babysitting encounters) when I myself was a child (all jokes about how long ago that was are not forgiven). And I have to say, it has proven to me the true innocence of a child’s mind.

Watching this inane sequence of life lessons - enacted out by farm animals, motor vehicles or odd-looking alien type characters that speak an inaudible, yet apparently, educational language – has taught me that over the years our minds are warped to believe that the simplest of things are in fact wrong, seedy or sexual innuendo.

I have to hope I’m not alone as an adult in questioning the intent of those creating these programmes. After all, children’s programming is not put together by a gathering of unassuming four-year-olds is it?

Behind the scenes surely there’s a bunch of whisky-drinking, Marlboro Light-smoking (because of course the word ‘light’ makes it healthier) former RADA rejects, who spend their time resenting the casting directors of Eastenders and Coronation Street, who once offered them the role of ‘Cab Driver Number 1” or, even the shining lights of the one-line talking part that was the ‘Doctors’ receptionist’.

Now, I don’t want to declare this as fact, as it is purely based on my assumptions, but every year there are probably thousands of young people leaving stage schools, even the heights of RADA, looking for their ‘big break’ in showbusiness. And let’s face it, we’re not all Billie Piper or Denise Van Outen are we? (don’t worry I checked, they were both at stage school!)

So I am guessing the West End, TV or the Top 40 is not the fate of every stage school graduate. You may well think that these poor souls have to put themselves through years of waiting tables or stacking shelves before finding their ‘big break’, but I have a different theory. They’re all working in children’s TV!

Watch the likes of Milkshake, Cbeebies, Cartoonito, Nick Jnr - yes, I’ve sampled them all – and you will find wide-smiled tan-tastic overly enthused individuals who, if you look closely, are clearly the same people who the night before were undoubtedly hanging off a podium and pouring Vodka into their eyeballs in the best drinking emporiums in London town.

Don’t get me wrong, these folks do a very good job. When those Cheshire Cat grins appear on the screen, wishing every five year-old in the country a Happy Birthday, our little lady is transfixed. She literally stops what she’s doing (those important tasks of biting her fists or throwing a stacking cup across the play mat) and will sit still, hanging on their every word.

However. I am absolutely convinced that the presenters, producers, cameramen and anyone else involved in these shows, is having a giraffe (that means ‘laugh’ for those of you who didn’t learn Cockney at school!) – and I’ll tell you for why.

The other day I actually paid attention to what the presenters were saying on Cbeebies. Erin was settled on my knee and, without the aid of my phone, computer, or another soul to talk to, I was trapped and destined to become Chris and Jamelia’s (the smiley-faced presenters) audience.

They were doing an entire ten minute feature on ‘blowing and sucking’. I tell you no word of a lie! In fact I hope one of you has actually seen this programme, just to make sure I haven’t imagined it!

Now I appreciate that to a child, Chris and Jamelia were literally teaching them about how to blow bubbles and suck drinks through a straw (a very suspicious-looking banana milkshake was their choice of aperitif). But. I would say the songs, actions and activities involved in conveying this message, were – although perfectly innocent to an innocent mind – riddled with sexual innuendo, surely for either their own entertainment, or as a joke to parents.

I can’t go too much into it, as I’m still a little concerned about my own mind, if this is how I interpreted this innocent attempt at children’s programming. But there was one situation where the lady involved (Jamelia) sat blowing bubbles and sucking water out of a paddling pool. She was doing this to a rhythm set out by Chris’ song, insisting rather vigourously that she “blows and sucks, and blows and sucks, all day long”. Now hang on?!

We’re all adults, so I don’t need to explain to you where I think they were going with this one, but surely there’s a group of people behind that camera laughing their heads off?

I had to run this by my husband when he got home, just to try and make sure I wasn’t just being unnecessarily smutty (perhaps not the best candidate.) But he agreed, that this must be a conspiracy.

Maybe they have a bet on as to how far they can go, and what they can get away with? And of course, this is a subject that most people wouldn’t consider raising with Points of View, or possibly even other humans, but here I am, I just hope as my beloved reader you understand my thoughts, and don’t think less of me.

The worst resulting factor of this whole episode is now I am looking at all children’s programmes differently. I am wondering if, when Fireman Sam asks Phyllis if she could polish his pole for him, whether there’s some writer or producer somewhere with a wry smile.

There’s always been innuendo I suppose in children’s entertainment. I still remember my mum and dad laughing to themselves at the Dame’s jokes in pantomimes, that I didn’t get – and the mortified look on my mum’s face the year I did start to understand.

So maybe this isn’t something new, and I shouldn’t be so shocked. Perhaps it’s something that’s been happening for years, as a sort of unspoken agreement between children’s entertainers and parents, so everyone can have a laugh. But I have to say, I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

Next time you watch Thomas the Tank Engine, Postman Pat or Fireman Sam (yes, they’re all still on!) put on your smut spectacles and join me in this world of confusion that is parenthood.

I vow my next blog will be far more tasteful.