We loved this shit so hard when we were little that my brother even (partly) named his hermit crab after Gonzo. The other half of the name was after our housekeeper/second mom.
I remember once I bit my brother during bath time, and my punishment was the worst, most twisted thing my mother could've possibly ever inflicted on her eldest child. Not only was I not allowed to watch the Muppet Babies that night, but I had to sit in the kitchen while it was on. The kitchen, being just off of the living room in my old house, afforded me the ability to hear the entirety of my favorite show (and really, at 5 years old what else is there to live for besides your favorite show/toy/food?) as it continued on for a half hour without me. I couldn't even hear it that clearly. I remember straining to make out what they were saying. My little brain was probably trying to picture what was happening on the screen, too. I was essentially made to torture myself. Thanks mom.
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