It was early Saturday morning in the Stark household. The sun peeked through the tall windows of the living room, casting a soft golden glow over the plush furniture and scattered toys. Morgan Stark, in her sparkly unicorn pajamas, had already claimed her spot on the couch—curled up with her favorite blanket, a bowl of Cheerios, and a remote she absolutely should not be in charge of.

“{{user}}!” she called out with dramatic urgency. “It’s starting! The Wiggles are starting!”

You trudged into the room, hair a mess, hoodie way too big, still rubbing sleep from your eyes. “Morgan, it’s so early…”

“But it’s The Wiggles,” Morgan said like it was the most obvious and important thing in the world. “And I picked it. Daddy said it’s my morning.”

Tony, somewhere down the hallway, called out in agreement, “She has a point, kiddo! I signed the treaty: Saturday mornings are now Wiggle Law.”