Horrible Histories Watch Online
I don’t want to cosy up with my son under a duvet to watch Home Alone and then spend the next three hours trying to explain why Macaulay Culkin was left on his own without parental supervision. And I don’t want ‘magical’ movies that throw up questions about the logistics of Santa’s delivery methods ("Does he break into our house? How does he get into flats? Does he use Yodel?" etc.)
If you’ve never seen it, it’s like Monty Python, except the parrot died of cholera in 1667 and was eaten by the French. It is also brimming with fart jokes. (After all, it IS aimed at 7 year olds.)
Grown men and women lark about in codpieces, and to be honest, it’s all pretty pleasing to the eye. Turns out I have quite a thing about men in tights. And robes. And er, embroidery. Phworrgh.
I’ve watched hours of Pinky Ponks and Ninky Nonks, sang the CBeebies bedtime song every night, and suffered long episodes of Come Outside, featuring Lynda Baron in a plane with a dog.
The day my son graduated to CBBC was a cause for great celebration, and Horrible Histories was the grand prize – a show with more laughs and joyful moments than most grown up shows.
Based on the Horrible Histories books by Terry Deary, the show is - in my opinion - far superior, and much funnier. Take Stupid Deaths, a razzle dazzle game show starring the grim reaper that takes place in the celestial departures lounge.
And the songs! The songs are genius. I mean, seriously, you can take the Wiggles, put them in a hessian sack and fire them into space.
All singing, all dancing children’s entertainers in colour coded outfits have got nothing on the HH team, who are lyrical giants on a par with Bjorn and Benny from ABBA.
Who else would dare rhyme ‘nunnery’ with ‘funnery’? And they’re catchy, too.
Watch this, and tell me it ain’t so.
Then there’s the Spartan version of High School Musical, or Invasion, Invasion, Invasion – a Saxon version of the Phil and Kirstie property show.
Or the hilarious Joan of Arc sketch, when 14 year old Joan wonders if being chosen by God to lead France to victory might be a case of mistaken identity – were they looking for her next door neighbour, JOHN of Arc?
And as well as being dead funny, it’s actually very educational. For every laugh, there’s a fact. Its historic accuracy is impressive, and my child now knows more about leeches and Roman toilets than I ever did.
From cavemen to the Victorians, there’s no wig and beard combo these guys can’t pull off, and the attention to detail and the comedy accents are spectacular.
It’s all the more (Charles de) galling that Horrible Histories cruelly had its head chopped off in July when the cast decided to call it a day. But it lives on in the CBBC schedules.
And you know what? If more adults watched it, they might be convinced to bring it back and put it on BBC1 at prime time (PLEASE?).
In the meantime, there’s the wonderful, barmy Yonderland on Sky. Written by and starring the fiendishly talented cast of HH, it features a blob called Trevor and a mum who finds a portal to another universe at the back of her fridge.
But yes. I admit it. I’m 41 and Horrible Histories will forever be one of my favourite shows. Usually, when you’re watching TV with your child, you’re sitting there on Twitter or propping your eyes open with a cushion as Spooky Spoon from the Numberjacks causes a woman to fall over a mop bucket and drop a plate of cakes.
But the time I spend watching HH with my son is quality time, because we’re both enjoying it, and neither of us want it to end. It’s actually given us some genuinely happy times – as well as loads of fart jokes.
So this Christmas, my boy would like the BBC to bring back the show in all its bonkers glory. Don’t make us settle for repeats, or worse, Gigglebiz.
We need to start a campaign to bring it back. After all, SURELY there are tons of poor, exhausted mothers out there, looking forward to secretly indulging their love of codpieces.