At this very moment, I have an eight year old daughter up in bed, singing herself bittersweet, tear-filled songs about the Little Prince, which we finished reading tonight.
Good grief, how come nobody warned me that in it, a child commits suicide by snakebite? It seems like that would be something that a body would give a heads up on. Like when I mentioned reading the stupid book in a previous blog post, a "Hey, dumbass hippy- you are aware that the child dies at the end, right?" in the comments section would have been deeply appreciated.
Only the French could come up with a children's book where the main character offs himself in the final pages. Robin Williams got it right.
I give a cigarette to a baby.
(heads up. Robin Williams drops the F-bomb like the French drop atomic bombs.)
Hey, maybe we'll watch "Old Yeller" for family movie night this week.
Ok. I'm going to go sing myself bittersweet songs about the Little Prince. He was a cutie. Right up until he let a deadly snake fatally bite him on the ankle. Just to be clear to any other parents out there who are reading this book to their kids and, like me, forgot that the French are all more than slightly insane.