Dear Diego,
My son thinks you’re awesome. I don’t know what you’ve done to my little guy but as soon as you hit the screen he goes into this crazy hopping dance.
Digeo hopping dance
He starts waving at the TV and saying “Hi, Diego”, “I was looking for you, Diego”. He’s just as nuts about your home girl, Dora. I’m not sure how I feel about all of this.
"Hi Diego!"
I mean, why are you two little kids, running free through the jungle and all over the world? How old are you, anyway? Diego, why is your pet a baby jaguar. You can’t be any older than three or a very short 5 year old. Isn’t a jaguar a bit dangerous? Dora, you’re not off the hook here. Don’t you roll with a Monkey? Odd, very odd.
My husband and I have been talking about you two and we’re wondering… where are your parents? You lead these amazing lives that take you through the jungles, through the woods and to snowy mountains and there never really seems to be an adult in sight that might be related to you two. I have no choice but to believe that you’re really tiny spies. Your smallness is really just a part of a well thought out uniform.
These songs you have my son singing… are they filled with covert messages that only children can understand. That would totally explain why he thought it was OK to tell me “My room, Mommy. Go away.” Yes, Deigo and Dora, I blame you! We’ll be keeping an eye on you. Trust.
With an eagle eye,
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