An Open Letter to Jimmy Giggle

Dear Jimmy,

I feel a little bad writing this, and I'm not sure there's any easy way to convey these words, so I'll just come out and say it.

I think it's time we, um...  separated.
(...sniff sniff.)

Today, my youngest daughter started school, and this means that, in a way, (oh how do I say it?) I feel the need to say goodbye to you too.
It's not you Jimmy, it's me.
I feel like I have matured in our relationship, and yet, you haven't moved on. Your relationship with your small-football-shaped-hypercolour owl-pal is driving a primary-coloured wedge between us. In fact, I feel like I've never been able to compete with Hoot. He really has you wrapped around his little finger, umm... claw.

Jimmy, I need space, I need time. I need to look ahead to ABC3 now. I think it's best if we just have a clean break. Nice and quick, like ripping off a band-aid... or falling off the Gigglemobile at high speed.

I will miss our twice daily strolls through the Giggle Gallery. Remember the time you showed our picture? Sure you do... it was one of 74,963 rainbows you have shown in the past five years. It was special.

 Remember this one? Rainbow with an orchard on top. So many sweet memories Jimmy.

Remember this one? Rainbow with an orchard on top.
So many sweet memories Jimmy.

I will miss our forays into the Giggle Galaxy (yeah yeah)... I'll think of your authentic astronaut uniform every time I get out the aluminium foil.

And I will miss your prowess on the ukelele and various jumbo novelty instruments.

No longer will your dulcet tones be heard throughout my house. My heart will sigh when I recall the good times we shared, the high notes we'd hit as we harmonised loudly, (as my four year old blocked her ears,) our mutual love for the colour orange, (or was that purple?) the spotty gumboots you wore as Super Giggle (I too have spotted gumboots... same-same Jimmy, we had so much in common) and our intense irrational fear of b-b-b-b-BATS.  But I know this separation is good for both of us. I know by making a clean break now I will be OK. My heart (and gumboots) will go on.

Tonight, before I do the five steps to bed, I'll think of you when I look up into the nighty night sky.

Thank you for the past five years Jimmy Giggle. It has been hootastic.

- Kathy. x x