Bluey’s latest episode ‘Ghost Basket’ is a bittersweet ending to early childhood parenting

Lisa Birch
7 min readApr 7, 2024

This article contains spoilers for ‘Ghost Basket’.

We have been a Bluey family from the beginning. The kids don’t remember life before Bluey — it is only me who holds the memories of my daughter’s brief obsession with Hey Duggee — but they do remember tearing out of bed far too early to watch a new episode. It has been there since the year my son was born, and there hasn’t been a day where the three of us haven’t watched, discussed or referenced Bluey in some way. We are a playful family, not entirely like the Heelers, but a family who engages in deep play and makes time for one another. We are a Bluey family.

I was born in the 80s and grew up in the 90s. I remember my family watching The Simpsons on Sunday nights, brand new episodes that were new to everyone. Growing up everyone knew The Simpsons. Were they good parents? The fact remains to be seen, but in those first few seasons especially we see the closeness of their family, their gradual acceptance of the oddballs who were around them, and were able to identify some of the key learnings about family togetherness and generosity, showed us that The Simpsons were there for each other. For a family who was broke most of the time The Simpsons were rich in love but never in a way that was too cutesy. We were a Simpsons family, and to be honest, we still are.

This morning I watched ‘Ghost Basket’ and right away something didn’t seem quite right to me. There have been many instances where Bandit and Chilli engage in imaginative play involving playing characters but this one had little context. Bandit plays a real estate agent named Hugo who has to sell a house to Chilli who gives herself the name Mummy. Bluey and Bingo usually refer to their mother as ‘Mum’ or ‘Mama’, so the understanding here is that Chilli is playing a mum who is unlike her.

Once Hugo and Mummy have made it into the house we are greeted by The Grannies AKA Rita and Janet (Bluey and Bingo) who decide to make it impossible for Hugo to give a thorough tour of the house. Maybe it’s just me, but the house is very clean and a little less cluttered than usual. After finally giving in, the Grannies are unceremoniously thrown out of the house and Mummy gets to live there, relaxing on a sun lounger in the backyard.

Hugo sees that Grannies are upset and says, ‘it’s nothing personal.’

‘We know, it’s just your job.’ The Grannies are crestfallen so Hugo devises a plan to spook Mummy out of the house. When she finally leaves after being haunted by a wheel barrow, Hugo and the Grannies celebrate. Then Hugo’s voice shifts back to being Bandit. ‘But, look. I can’t do this every time,’ he says.

The scene ends with the house and as it pans out we see a For Sale sign in front of the Heelers’ home. Known for it’s impeccable sound track, this Bluey episode’s credits end without sound, no music punctuating the sad final scene.

In ‘Copycat’ we see Bluey engage in dramatic play, allowing her to process witnessing a bird dying after taking it the vet. Mum acts as the vet who announces that the budgie lives. Bluey explains that she wants the bad news, and although Mum is hesitant she acts this out instead. It is a striking contrast to ‘Ghost Basket’ which we can assume through Bandit’s explanation that this is a game they have played often with a positive outcome. Not ready to face reality yet, Bluey and Bingo continue to find ways of making the selling of the house impossible through play. In ‘Copycat’ the bird is allowed to die. In ‘Ghost Basket’ the house must remain with Rita and Janet.

Although we still have a final episode of season 3 ‘The Sign’ (a 28 minute long episode), and the Ludo team have assured viewers consistently that they will return after a hiatus, this episode was another reminder that those beautiful early childhood years with my own kids are behind me. We live in a small home (it’s smaller than it looks, unlike the Queenslander the Heelers call home), but it’s been large enough to act out many of the key games from Bluey — Taxi, Trains, Raiders, Grannies, and many Unicorse scene. My kids both go to big school now, and those days of lock downs and stay at home orders passed so long ago they barely remember them.

Bluey has taught me how to be a fun parent, and reassured me constantly that children thrive when they have parents who love and care for them, who can be silly with them, and keep space for them to have difficult conversations. Bluey has also allowed me to talk to the children about different characters — sometimes-bossy Judo, Muffin being a typical three year old, comparing my son to Socks when he was little and didn’t understand games, Jack’s brain thinking differently to others, and how to be patient like Bluey.

Assuming the Heelers have put their house on the market, and that Socks has grown up a little, and that time is progressing in a way that The Simpsons could not portray, this means one thing: my little ones are growing up too. My years of being a parent of little ones are over.

If new Bluey isn’t released on our screens for another 18 or 24 months, my children will have aged out. Yes, I know there are many tweens and teens who love Bluey, but over the past few releases of new episodes I’ve felt the most excited one in our family has been me. So I wonder if I should go all out for ‘The Sign’ — decorating the lounge room with wedding paraphernalia or should I just remind them at 8AM that new Bluey is about to begin?

The potential sale of the Heeler home represents an open-ended opportunity to end the story should they need to. Bluey has constantly called in community — their neighbours are constantly roped into playing games with them, they seem to make friends when they go places, and they live close by to at least one set of aunties and uncles. It doesn’t make sense for them to leave. The Ludo team have always been intentional though, recognising that the show is both for adults and children to enjoy and inadvertently learn from. Despite fans losing their minds over potential babies, there is no chance they are selling their house for an incoming baby — there’s room for a nursery right across from the girls’ room (and either way, the ‘Bedroom’ episode addresses that there is no baby impending).

When I was eight years old my family moved to a new town for a similar reason suggested in the episode — for my dad’s work. For years I asked my mum about moving. It was an adventure, she said. The house was too small for the four of us. Dad was away all the time with his work, and where we moved to was only two hours away.

In ‘Curry Quest’ we see Bingo dealing with her dad working away from home, which makes plenty of sense because he’s an archeologist. Until ‘Curry Quest’ I had not thought of the two years when my dad would work away, but those memories came rushing back: phoning my dad every night and making ‘welcome home’ signs for his return. I remember cosy nights at home with Mum and my brother, watching Sister Act or the Sunday night line up on Channel Ten. Most afternoons we would take the billycart to the top of the avenue and race down, taking turns and fortunately dodging traffic. It was idyllic in my head, and in my heart. When we moved away it was a sign of middle childhood beginning for my brother, and it punctuated my own life in a way that was difficult for people to understand, including me. But my family were together again, and just like the Simpsons we became a family of five. If the Heelers move house, and it’s for the benefit of their family, all the power to them. But honestly, I’m not ready to say goodbye to their beautiful Queenslander, their wild backyard or their completely unnecessary laundry schedule.

My daughter is eight now, and Bluey has stayed six — although some of the other kids have aged — perhaps when she is ten, and Bluey is back her life will look different. When I remind her that we are saving for a house, she reminds me that she doesn’t want to leave our rental. ‘We’ll be here a few more years yet,’ I say, and hope, for everyone, it’s true. My son is five. He was like Socks, then like Muffin, then like Bingo, and now he’s going to be the same age as Bluey. I know how to be the parent of children in early childhood. And even now, I’m still looking to Bluey to guide me through middle childhood.

Does it matter where the Heelers live? Of course not. They’re a family no matter where they are. Does it change the fact that my children are slowly growing out of Bluey, and are ready to watch live-action? No. But deep down, we’ll always be a Bluey family, no matter where we, or the Heelers, choose to make a home.

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Lisa Birch

I like books, rubber ducks, 90s pop music and putting words on paper. Wrote a thesis on romance. Failed roller derby fresh meat 5 times (and counting).