Who’d be a Children’s TV Presenter?

Its currently 11.30pm and I’m up watching the Superbowl, which is probably one of the few things that either myself or Emma (who is currently fast asleep in bed) have watched live as it happens on TV (The Bake Off will always be watched in the Lewis household though!)  This is due to parenthood, obviously, and the reason why our TV viewing is restricted to either recorded shows, on demand box sets or Netflix (Netflix and chill!? More like Netflix, Tea and Biscuits).  The only other TV of any kind shown in this house is scheduled from hell itself…CBeebies!

Now, I’ll make this clear, I have no beef with CBeebies itself, it is a mix of varied TV shows that are educational and fun for the Jam Eater to watch, No, the problem is the presenters who get paid a shit load of money to act like total helmets.  If I dance around the house pretending to be a carrot, the only words I hear are ‘Stop being a knob’ or ‘Don’t spill my tea’.  Florence couldn’t give a shit either by my repertoire and just eats her yoghurt without trying to give me eye contact, attention or to even humour me.

Firstly, there is Andy, he means well, bless him, but really he is just a tall mop topped presenter who clearly is in there for the love of the mothers at home.  Now, a few months ago we were out with friends in Starbucks and this topic of conversation came up and they mentioned that Andy looks like Fatima Whitbread, the 80’s British former javelin thrower.  I can now never unsee this.  I have provided a picture below for you to be haunted by too.

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Next up, Cerrie.  Apparently when she started on CBeebies there were parents complaining because she only had one arm.  Bloody stupid arseholes.  Anyway, I think they missed the real reason to complain.  She is a rubbish presenter and has about much screen presence as a cold bowl of soup.  Waste of time.

Now, Mr Tumble.  I’m convinced he is a sorcerer.  He is the only presenter who can keep Flo’s attention on the screen for a prolonged period of time.  Florence has even learnt bits and bobs of Sign Language from him, can’t argue with the man for that.  But I just don’t like him, this also seems a common pattern amongst parents I know.

Finally, Mr Bloom…I’m actually a fan of Mr Bloom, the Mancunian Gardener.  He even sneaks innuendo into his program like ‘Get yer lips around those plums’ in a way that is funny and not at all creepy as it would have been if Mr. Tumble had said it.

One day Emma and I will retake the TV, until that time we are stuck with Cbeebies and Netflix.

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