I love reading to my kids. I love that my kids love that I read to them. I, generally, love children’s books.
Except for these, which I pulled out of various hiding places before photographing them while the kids are at school.
It’s 7:30, I’ve just finished the marathon that is making food while a toddler clings to my leg, screaming MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA, all while telling the 4 year old to “GET. OUT. OF. THE. REFRIGERATOR. I. AM. MAKING. DINNER.” through my clenched teeth.
I don’t have the brain capacity to be making up words to books that should already have them.
::read in monotone, exhausted voice:: “Oh, look. The gorilla got the keys. The gorilla is letting the elephant out of the cage. And now he is letting the lion out of the cage. Oh my.”
This bunny is a punk. You know what, kid? You want to run away that bad, go ahead. I’m not going to transform into anything. I’m just going to be at home with all the food and the beds and stuff.
Oh sure, the story is supposed to be about how I will always love them, but isn’t this the ultimate in helicopter parenting? Aren’t we supposed to let them try to climb a mountain instead of stalking them until they give up and just stay home? You’re just setting yourself up for a 30 year old bunny in your basement, momma.
But seriously, what exactly does a walrus “bellowing” sound like and how do I make that noise? And a peacock “yelping”? And a hippopotamus “snorting”? This book makes me feel like a nonsensical idiot.
We got this from Ikea a few years ago. It’s educational, sure, but it’s the book that NEVER ends. There are always a million questions.
“Mommy, what is that?”
“That is Helsinki, home of…. paper making??”
“What is paper making?”
“Like, making paper.”
“Why do people make paper.”
“So we can make books.”
“Why do people make books?”
“To annoy me, apparently.”
Why are “lift-flap” books made and marketed toward toddlers?
LOOK! UNDER HERE! Lift me up with your very gentle toddler touch.
Oh no! You ripped me right the fuck off. Go cry “Uh oh!” over and over to your mom!
When you’re done with your hysterics, you can just go ahead and eat the piece of me you just tore off.
I know you’re hiding books at this very moment, too. Spill it. Which ones?