Four Stores Built for Kids That Make the Kids' Parents Want To Die
In The Parent Crap, Alice Laussade chronicles life as a mom in Dallas. Worried you're screwing up your kid? Tweet questions to @thecheapbastard and she'll confirm that, yes, you're screwing up your kid.
Stop taking your kid here. It's freaking frightening.
Being a mom is amazing. It's a gift. But parenting blows.
You're being a mom when you're bonding with your kid in a rocking chair by sweetly whisper-singing lullabies into her sweet, little ear. You're being a parent when you're whisper-yelling at her, "We do not wipe poop on the walls at Target."
Why is parenting so awful? This should be obvious: Because kids are assholes, because they were born that way. And if you just said to yourself, "Not my little angel," you're the worst offender.
At age zero, babies are the biggest assholes on the planet. It's science. They cry all the time, they shit themselves and expect you to clean it up, they insist on eating your boobs, they don't lift a finger around the house unless it's to fuck something up, and then they smile at you and you don't even blame them for being super lazy all the time because they're beautiful and perfect and the whole world is new in their eyes and they're The Future.
One way that we absolutely turn our kids into even bigger assholes is by catering to their every kid-whim by taking them to special retail stores that are supposed to be "just for kids." It is my hope that as a parenting team, we can agree to stop going to these places so that our kids can be less a-holey as a demographic:
They play promotional videos for their stores on a loop for your kid while you're busy wishing you were dead.
If you like overpaying for a mediocre kid haircut while feeling like you're stuck in a never-ending scary tunnel scene of Willy Wonka (Gene Wilder version, duh. I can't believe you even asked), when his eyes are bugging out like Large Marge and he's all, "Is it raining, is it snowing, is a hurricane a-blowing," then Snip Its is the perfect place to take your kid. I hope you don't die from fluorescent happy exposure. But you might.
Guaranteed, McKenna is a total B.
When I was a kid, American Girl dolls were this awesome thing that came in the mail with a book about how your particular doll chick and all chicks are badasses and they can survive wars and shit. Now, it's all pink. And one million dollars. And upstairs, you can have real tea time and brunch with your doll. Who in the hell puked dumb all over this brand?