ARE you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...

Seven simple words that didn't just define a generation, they helped shape its children into well-rounded individuals who knew right from wrong, good from bad and that it was essentially wrong for Looby Loo to join Teddy and Andy Pandy in the big box.

Generations of children have somehow grown up sane despite adults trying to mess with their minds through characters that can only have been created after long lunch breaks or hallucenogenic drugs.

The Clangers, The Teletubbies, Fingerbobs, The Herbs, Mutant Ninja Turtles. Little wonder there are times when we look at our children and fear that too much exposure to this stuff may have been a big mistake.

But it was the early, halcyon days of BBC children's television that created today's middle-aged movers and shakers.

And no doubt some of them will have been among the bidders when puppets and figures from classic television shows such as Muffin the Mule, Andy Pandy and Bill and Ben went under the hammer at Christie's this week.

For years - probably until I was married - I believed a guinea pig could drive a speedboat, that a garden weed possessed the mental capacity to warn pot plants of impending danger and that "flobba-dobba-flobba-lob" was an acceptable form of address in job interviews.

It was, of course, the time in our lives when we first started to make choices.

We evolved into teenagers and chose our favourite Wacky Racers (the Arkansas Chug-a-bug) and drooled over Captain Scarlet's gorgeous Spectrum Angels (Harmony, Rhapsody, Destiny, Melody and Symphony).

We might even have shared the sneaky thought that perhaps having a gorgeous wife who couldn't answer back - like Marina in Stingray - might not be such a bad thing after all.

But in the early '60s, we also had our favourites.

Mine was Spotty Dog, who walked across the Woodentop yard with the self-confidence - nay, the arrogance - of a hound that knew he was indeed "the biggest spotty dog you ever did see". I later adopted his method of walking, usually aided by several pints of cider.

I couldn't deal with Andy Pandy at all. Even at the age of four, I could recognise that this was a one-dimensional character whose male bonding with Teddy was always going to jeopardise his blossoming relationship with Looby Loo, a woman doomed to a life of unrequited love.

But it was Little Weed - the interfering, smart aleck flower whose role rarely progressed beyond smiling inanely and alerting Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men that the gardener was around - who irritated me most.

There was me - a three-year-old sponge longing for education - and all she could do was gurn and squeak "Weeeeeed".

Unlike Bill and Ben, whose language (officially Oddle Poddle) opened up a whole new world of communication.

How many of our parents were aware that "Waddle oo tikoo dop? Gloob a waddle a hop" translated as "What do you think of that? Gloves as well as a hat." And how wonderful that these linguistic experiences should pave the way for a career in journalism, where an understanding of border gibberish is essential.