How to stomach children's programming
As the mother of an almost-two year old, I find my living room reverberating with the sweet melody of Barney's Don Knott-esque voice, by O the Owl's inability to relate to people outside of a book, and and by Husband's rants that the gang at Chuggington Station are all so useless that they should be sent to the junkyard and made into razor blades. And seeing as Lorelai started walking at 10 months, sometimes the only time I'm guaranteed not to have to run interference between
