In common with every toddler between here and Tibet, our daughter Eve has developed a crazed obsession with The Tweenies, Teletubbies have been dumped.

They're history. For all she cares, Po, Laa-Laa, Tinky Winky and Dipsy could go drown themselves in a vat of tubby custard.

Now, from the moment she wakes up to the minutes we make her go to bed, her habitual cry is: "I need Tweenies." And she's not just referring to the daily TV programme with the four, big-booted, multi-coloured melon heads. She's got Tweenies wellies, a Tweenies mug, a Tweenies singalong video and is now asking if she can have a pink dress like Fizz and blue shorts like Jake.

Where will it stop?

Out of concern for her growing interest in low-brow entertainment, I decided to take her to a live theatre performance especially for the under-fives at the Gardner Arts Centre last week.

Two is a bit young to begin your child's cultural education, perhaps, but the show, called Pilloworks, sounded lovely and had received rave reviews.

I heard it would involve walking through interconnecting tents while the two performers - a man and a woman - did their ablutions, got into their night togs, told bedtime stores and finally climbed into bed with their audience (nothing kinky about this, I assure you).

I was quite excited as we queued up with the other mums and dads and their children before the show started. I was convinced Eve would be enthralled by the magic of theatre.

Unfortunately, as soon as we entered the first tent Eve took an instant dislike to the male performer. We'd only got as far as the teeth-brushing stage when she said loudly: "DON'T LIKE THE MAN, WANT TO GET OUT." I tried hushing her but it only made her worse and encouraged other children to start whining. So we made a quick exit with her in floods of tears and I had to let her run around the theatre's gallery in her Tweenies wellies to restore her spirits.

Then, luckily for us (but not for them) some friends of ours arrived late for the show with their small child. As they hurried into the tent, Eve forgot her fears and scampered in after them. By now the performers were just finishing a spooky story about a spider and were about to snuggle up under a giant duvet with their audience. Eve, looking a little apprehensive again, agreed to come under the covers with me but was soon clamouring to get out. The woman performer began making mime movements with a large pillow shaped as a man when Eve started up: "DON'T LIKE THE SOFA," she wailed, crawling back over the duvet in a bid for freedom with me in pursuit.

By all accounts, the adults found the last bit of the show, which involved shadow puppets, absolutely captivating. As for the children, it seems many were as scared as Eve had been, but didn't have her confidence to heckle or walk out.

Maybe she has got the hang of how to appreciate culture after all.