Today's post is brought to you by Green. Green: the colour of grass, the colour of greed, the colour of green Crayola crayons, and of course, the colour of a particular strain of eggs that come with ham.
As the baby is coming in for the final descent – that is, months 7, 8, 9 – people start getting you freaked out. You'll never sleep. Your life will be hell. Goodbye fun. &c. &c.
What people are less inclined to mention are the great things you get: aside from a very cute creature who you can mould into some diabolical minion, you get Dr. Seuss. Hands down, the greatest writer of english, ever. Reading the great Doctor makes me so happy to be able to read. To all those dreary cultural studies wizards whose work I trudged through – I wish I could walk up to them with a copy of The Cat In The Hat, throw it down on their desks and say, "if you can't make your work read like this, it sucks." Read More
There are certain stores in the world you step into and get this feeling: if this place were swept away in a flood, the world really wouldn’t suffer. Grocery stores, beer stores, pharmacies, and the admirable Lee Valley Tools do not fall into this category; Babies”R”Us does.
Yet if you’ve ever done so much as humour the heretical thought that ‘maybe I have all I need’ it will quickly be shattered and replaced with a line of thinking more in tune with our society’s values, the moment you set foot in a Babies”R”Us. Of course, that is assuming you have a child and you’re of the mind that child-rearing is primarily a job not of care, love, or nurturing, but of minimizing the psychological trauma you inflict on the growing creature. Read More
In the past I've been known to write the occasional travel blog post, exploring the quirks and oddities of whatever place I've been lucky enough to find myself. I don't typically take pictures of my quinoa bowl or tilapia tacos, apply a filter to make my digital phone-camera seem like an analogue piece of shit, and invite my followers to vicariously join me in my fulfilment of the basic bodily function of eating. No, I've never been a fan of that, and you don't need to expect a beautifully framed black-and-white photo of a soiled diaper or an empty milk bottle on the kitchen counter. Read More