A Trip Down Memory Lane — Looking Back on that one Time my Daughter Became a Bubble Guppy for a Day

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My 2 year-old’s current obsession is the Bubble Guppies. She will watch this show for hours if I let her. Since 2 year-old’s don’t comprehend what having an idol is quite yet, I concluded my girl idolizes Molly, Gil, and the rest of the Guppies due to her severe case of BubbleGupGup Fever.

Today, as my little girl and I sat on the couch watching these human-cartoon-fish-things begin a competitive game of basketball, the show spoke to me. A cartoon half elephant/ half fish thing led a fast break down the court. The quasi-elephant slammed it home like Shawn Kemp. But not Sonics Shawn Kemp, Orlando Magic Shawn Kemp. I wasn’t impressed.

It became clear to me that if this elephant fish creepo mammalanimal could dunk on the Bubble Guppies, my daughter could do anything a Bubble Guppy does too.

Hmmm, let me see here. What’s more impressive? A flying elephant dunking a Dollar Store basketball with a 7 foot trunk? Or a 3 foot tall human taking flight from the kitchen to slam home a double alley-oop thrown by her stuffed Little Mermaid doll? That’s what I thought. My daughter crushed this fishlephant in our Guppy Dunk-off.

After the trophy presentation, my daughter and I settled back on to the couch and popped on more Guppy goodness. It wasn’t long before the Bubble Babes n Bros made it clear what we’d be doing next.

My daughter and I hopped on my steel horse and shot down the highway like a couple of wanted cowboys. Six hours and 350 miles later, we arrived at the closest farm to my place.

On the Bubble Guppies, the chickens look sweet and friendly. On the rough n tough streets of the barnyard, this real chicken was mean as shit and was swarmed by large flying insects.

My daughter asked if we could find some friendlier animals. I let her know that the Guppies never did that so absolutely not… I finally changed my mind after I received my 10th or 11th horse fly bite from standing by the rooster.

Our first stop was visiting a caged-in donkey that weighed less than a dog track greyhound.

As I was eyeballing the barnyard for our next guest Guppy gig, 100 or so yards away, I saw what I thought were members of an 80’s Hair Metal cover band. We decided to head over to check out the show.

As we got closer, we realized it wasn’t a hair metal cover band. It was a tiny horse with its hair cut like a meth-head. Then another horse with the exact same hairstyle and color package as my daughter. Both the horse and my daughter were pretty darn embarrassed once they realized they go to the same hairstylist, and the stylist had scammed them, promising they were each getting an original treatment.
Not happy about this, my daughter decided to pass off her $30 Walgreens gift card to the horse under one agreement — the horse would dye her mane black immediately after sundown.

Next, we headed towards a rustling in the bushes around the corner…

1.) “Don’t go near that donkeydogcowhairycamel-looking thing honey! I can’t tell if it’s someone pulling a prank in a costume, or the product of a farmhouse cloning experiment.” 2.) “Alright, you can feed it. The farmer told me it’s real, but he doesn’t know what kind of animal it is either.”

We headed onward and I mentioned to my daughter that we needed to stay focused on doing everything a Bubble Guppy would do, not continue to visit these freakbag animals in cages. It was then that I heard the loud applause of an adoring crowd, coming from the area of the barnyard’s ampitheatre. We headed over.

While we didn’t exactly watch a dance show like the BG’s put on, we were lucky enough to see one of the most endearing portrayals of one’s struggle to find a better life. We caught two hours of Billy Gruff starring as a goat that didn’t move a muscle, make a noise, or acknowledge anyone’s presence. He eventually fooled everyone into thinking he was the statue of a goat, then fled the farm to freedom in the still of the night.

I told my daughter it was time to go. I was emotionally drained from witnessing Billy Gruff’s performance. My daughter told me “one sec,” then paused in the exiting concourse to comfort a saddened rabbit who also saw the show.

Daughter to bunny: “There there, little buddy. That goat sure did go through a lot, I get it. Just remember, he’s free now and is probably having a loud chuckle as he eats bush branches on a chilly hillside.”

We exited the barnyard, hopped back on to my steel horse and cranked up some Bon Jovi. We rifled down the interstate on our 350 mile journey back to the big city.

Jon Bon’s music inspired us to do what we had to do when we got home — demolish the Bubble Guppies at their own game, and take on any other challengers who felt like trying my multi-talented daughter.

First up: Molly vs. my daughter in a sing-off. Contest rules: Sing The Titanic theme song followed by Whitney Houston’s “Saving all my Love for you” followed by Heart’s “Never” until someone’s voice cracks. Molly’s voice cracked after my daughter told Molly she was dressed like a chocolate chip cookie. My kid then took a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie she pulled from behind Molly’s ear while nailing Houston’s bridge “CAUSE TOOOONIGHT! ISSSSS THE NIGHT! THAT I’M FEEEEEEEEELIN’ ALLLLLLLRIGHT. We’llbemakinglovethewhollllllllle night THOROOOOOOOOOOOUGH.” .
(In case you’re not familiar with one of Whitney Houston’s greatest songs, here’s the part that my daughter won the contest with).

Next up: a snare-snappin’, high-hat tappin’, cymbal crashin’ drum-off between my daughter and that one purple Bubble Guppy who no one likes and who has four lines a season.

The Bubble Guppy couldn’t even make it through the first 10 seconds of Rush’s “Tom Sawyer.” My daughter laughed in her competition’s face then immediately went to Twitter, challenging anyone in the universe to a drum-off. The response to her Tweet was something I wasn’t expecting to happen...

There was a fast paced knock at the front door. I yelled-out “DOOR’S OPEN! IF IT AIN’T OUR PIZZA, GO AWAY!” It wasn’t our pizza, it was Metallica’s Lars Ulrich. Immediately I knew where this was going.

Lars shouted out “DOUBLE-BASS PEDAL DUEL, ONLY PLAYING THE BREAKDOWN IN “ONE!” The two competed through 14 shin-splinting runs of “One’s” double-bass breakdown. This picture was snapped somewhere around the 8th time through, when they were taunting each other with “OHHHHHHS” AND “OOOOOOOOOOOOOs!” Lars vs My Daughter ended in a tie because Lars had to leave to go feed his cats.
Next, Phil Collins came over and challenged my daughter to some weirdo British drumming test — a silent staring contest through the first 3 minutes and 40 seconds of “In The Air Tonight,” followed by a flawless tom-tom pounding when the drums come in, then back to a staring contest. After their first time through the song, I told Phil to go have a staring contest with Phillip Bailey, that the Tarzan soundtrack sucks, and to get the fuck out of my house. He left.
Next, my facetime ring started going off. I figured it was just another groupie from this site, trying to meet me, but I was wrong. It was Garth Algar calling all the way from Aurora, IL inside of Noah’s Arcade. The Wack-A-Mole and Ski-Ball lanes were way too loud though, so I called this one off.
Then Dave Grohl came over dressed like he was still the drummer of Nirvana. Apparently my daughter never played a lick, she just pointed at Dave repeating “THE FLOOR’S ALL YOURS, DAVID!” I fainted right after I took this picture and didn’t wake up until a guy impersonating Will Ferrell shook me conscious.
Here’s the moment when me and my daughter realized it wasn’t some rental actor portraying Will Ferrell, it was Chad Smith from the Chili Peppers. I snapped this pic when Chad shouted “OOOOOOO YOU GOT CAUGHT SNOOZIN’, YOUR DRUMMING DAUGHTER IS ABOUT TO BE LOSIN’!”

BUT right before my daughter threw in the towel and accepted her L, the floors started to shake. Then it got so loud that we thought we were inside of a tornado. My front door came crashing down and in came what looked like a late-1980’s era Cher riding the Devil’s Harley.

It wasn’t Cher, it was Motley Crue’s Tommy Lee. The first thing he did after sitting down at his drum kit was tell me “Go get me a beer, fuckface,” then he roared at my daughter. My daughter then roared back at him. Our neighbor’s had had enough! Someone called in a noise complaint on us, which all but ended our Bubble Guppy glamorizing, drummer destroying paradise.

My daughter and I knew we had to snap back to reality. We knew we couldn’t play make-believe about us being REAL Guppies forever. However, we also both knew something far more important — my daughter is way more capable and talented than all six current Bubble Guppies on salary, and that also includes Stylie who once had a concert in Big Bubble City…

A few minutes later, while I was installing my front door back on to the hinges, my daughter came over and gave me a hug. She whispered into my ear the words that I had been waiting all day to hear — “we might not be real Bubble Guppies, Dadio, but I’ve got the realest Dad out of every Guppy in the sea. Night-night.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite, sweetiepie,” I replied. “But if they do start biting you, wake me up immediately so I can call an exterminator to tent the house, and burn all of our clothing and beds.”

She playfully shouted back “I already know the drill, Father,” then flipped off the lights and left me in the pitch black, alone, to repair our front door that Tommy Lee broke down.

What. A. Day.

This post was written by G.W.P. on March 5th, 2020 by using pictures and some of the day’s events on — Sunday, April 7th, 2019 — to reflect on.

Published: 3/5/2020. Copyright © 2020 TheDadaDADiest.com