And he's got an accent that makes me swoon.
Have you figured it out? It's Manny of the Handy persuasion.
I don't know what it is about that accent, or the way he wields a screwdriver, but when my son sits down for an episode I alternate between wanting to pinch his cheeks--Manny's that is, not my kid's--and wanting to break something on purpose just on the off chance he might show up to fix it. It's not that I want to trade in my own husband for a cartoon but Troy shouldn't be surprised if he crawls into bed at night, looks up at the ceiling, and sees a poster of this staring back at him:
That's right. I heart Handy Manny.