Bluey Is Supposed to Be for My Kid—So Why Am I the One Crying?

I have a two-year-old, which means I now live in a world where the TV is no longer mine. It belongs to the whims of a tiny dictator who demands constant entertainment, usually in the form of talking animals, bright colors, and songs that will burrow into my brain for eternity.

Like many first-time parents, I approached the world of kids’ TV with trepidation. My only reference points were shows from my own childhood—Sesame Street, Rugrats, Arthur—but it turns out children’s television has evolved. There are so many new options, and let’s just say... not all of them are great. Some are aggressively annoying. Some are borderline terrifying. And some make me question the state of modern animation altogether.

But then, while scrolling through Disney+, I stumbled upon Bluey.

At first, it was just background noise, another show to throw on while my son toddled around. Then he started watching it—really watching it. And before I knew it, he was in love with this little Australian Blue Heeler pup and her family. But here’s the thing I really didn’t expect: I fell in love with it too.

And I’m far from the only one.

Why Are So Many Adults—Even Childless Ones—Obsessed With Bluey?

Here’s the wildest part. Long before I ever heard of Bluey, I had childless friends and family members raving about it. Grown adults. People with no toddlers in their lives. I remember one particular conversation where my cousin (who has zero children) casually dropped, “Oh yeah, Camping made me cry.”

“Camping? Like, actual camping?”

“No, Bluey.”

“...The kids’ show?”

“Yes, and if you watch it, you’ll understand.”

And oh, did I. Because Camping broke me. That episode alone should be studied in film schools as a masterclass in storytelling economy—seven minutes of childhood nostalgia, friendship, and heartbreak that left me emotionally devastated in the best way.

But it wasn’t just Camping. One by one, episodes kept hitting me right in the feelings. Sleepytime? An existential meditation on growing up, disguised as a bedtime episode. Baby Race? A gut-punch for every parent who’s ever compared their kid’s development to others. Onesies? Don’t even get me started—my wife and I were practically sobbing on the couch.

It's Not Just for Kids—It’s About Parenting (and Growing Up, and Life Itself)

Most kids’ shows are designed for children. Bluey is, too—but it also seems suspiciously designed for the parents watching alongside them.

Bandit, Bluey’s dad, is the kind of fun, engaged parent I aspire to be—except, you know, with fewer responsibilities because he’s a cartoon dog. He plays with his kids in ways that are both ridiculous and heartwarming, showing that being a “good dad” doesn’t mean just enforcing rules but actually participating in childhood.

Chilli, Bluey’s mom, is equally fantastic but in a different way. She’s warm, wise, and knows exactly when to step in and when to step back. Watching her makes me appreciate the quiet, invisible labor of parenting—the moments kids don’t even notice but that shape them forever.

And it’s not just about parenting. Bluey tackles themes like family dynamics, friendships, loss, and the little joys of everyday life. It’s deep without being heavy-handed. It’s funny without being obnoxious. It’s emotional without being manipulative. It’s... just really good storytelling.

The Ted Lasso of Kids’ TV?

Some have compared Bluey to Ted Lasso, and I get it. Both shows are optimistic but not saccharine. Both have humor that works for different generations. Both sneakily deliver profound emotional truths when you least expect it.

But Bluey is doing something even rarer—it’s bridging the gap between childhood and adulthood, between parents and non-parents, between nostalgia and the present. It’s giving us a shared cultural moment, something that can unite toddlers, millennials, and boomers alike.

So… Am I Watching Bluey Without My Kid Now?

Uh, yeah. And I’m not ashamed.

Look, I won’t pretend I didn’t throw on a couple of episodes after my son went to bed. Just to unwind, you know? And I definitely won’t admit that I have personal rankings of my favorite episodes (but if I did, Camping and Flat Pack would be top-tier).

The truth is, Bluey has done something few kids' shows have ever managed to do: it’s transcended its demographic. It’s a kids' show, sure, but it’s also just a great show, period.

So if you haven’t watched it yet, do yourself a favor. Find an episode. Let go of the fact that it’s “for kids.”

Because if you’re anything like me, you’ll start watching for your child—and end up watching for yourself.