March 20, 2016

Dear Baby,

I am ever the Robert Munsch fan. I grew up on that baby- crack and I still vote the Paperback Princess as one of the most badass girl stories out there but yesterday before your nap we read Love You Forever and Mr. Munsch.

What. The. Fuck.

What kind of a bullshit tug-at-your-heartstrings kind of crap is that?

Did I want to spend my whole day teary eyed and emotional? Not really. I had shit to do and no one at Dufferin Mall thought it was sweet or endearing to watch a grown ass woman weep at the newborn onesies at Toys R Us that her baby doesn’t fit into anymore.

Who needs a story like that? It’s like, hey parents. Let’s remind you what a short journey you have to your inevitable death while you give your entire heart and life to another person. Let’s really push how fast this all goes and how soon it will be that you will be an obsolete figure in your child’s life no longer needed to rock and sooth them.

Come. On.

I feel like the whole entire basis of that book is practically tattooed on the heart of every new parent. No one needs an illustrated reminder.

Plus, who should be crying while they read to their baby? That’s not cool.

Oh what, you didn’t cry reading that book? Sorry about your soul- no soul.

I think the lesson here today is pretty clear. Don’t buy that fucking book. Don’t do it. It looks cute. It isn’t.

Fair warning to prevent you from several public meltdowns and a night of crying about chocolate commercials.

In the meantime, back to Goodnight Moon.

xo

Mom