Yeah, This Is Probably a Repeat

I don't like the Munchkins.  

No, not those.  The movie ones.

When I was little, "The Wizard of Oz" was aired once a year, and was kind of a big deal.  Hey, there were three TV stations, and you had to walk all the way over there to change the channel or adjust the volume.  This is to say, if there was something special on television, everyone watched it.

I would watch until the house landed in Oz, Dorothy opened the door, and everything was in color.  I knew they were coming.  The shrubbery shook, the giggling started, and I was gone.  The nasal, high-pitched singing, the showing up out of nowhere: creepy.  The Lollipop Guild was the absolute worst, with the leg shaking and all.  I am honestly getting goosebumps even typing this.

Now, after that early scarring (metaphorical, of course), my life unfolded without having to deal with them.  Until I had children.  And until those children turned three.  Each of them, at three, became entranced with the movie.  As in, watching it every day.  Maybe a couple of times a day.  I would be in the den with them until that color stock showed up, then I'd excuse myself to go to the bathroom or take a dog out or something to get me out of the room until someone other than Them was singing "Follow the Yellow Brick Road."  

And now, Lexus, you have a commercial with That Song sung by Them.  Great.  Thanks.  So very much.