Did This Old Mother Just Commit A Crime?



Last night I read “Love You Forever”to my 6-year-old son TWICE.  He loves the book.  Everyone does.  This book is THE book to be given to new parents. Basically, it is about a mother who loves her son VERY much despite all of his crazy antics. After sneaking into his room to rock him IN HIS SLEEP, she often sings this song to him:

I’ll Love You Forever,
I’ll Like You For Always,
As Long As I’m Living,
My Baby You’ll Be.

How could that song alone not touch your heart?  Do you have a soul at all?  TEAR UP over that song, dadblastit!  The book is sweet, sincere, genuine, loving, touching and moving…but, DAAAAAAAANG, some parts of that book freak me out. 

Let me explain.

All is well in the House of Awful Wallpaper in that image in the video below. The loving and doting mother is quietly making her way into her infant son’s room to cradle him and then sing a lovely song she probably made up on the spot. Talented girl, she is.  I bet her voice sounds like Celine Dionne, Chaka Kahn, Mariah Carey, Charlotte Church, Barbara Streisand, Susan Boyle, your mom, Sade, the cashier at your local grocery store, Anne Murray, the lady who works at your dry cleaner, Sheena Easton, your first-grade teacher, Barbara Mandrell, Aretha, Gladys Knight, your grandmother’s best friend and Whitney-in-her-younger-days rolled all into one.


This is where it starts getting a little creepy all up in this best-selling book. In this image on the right, her son is now a teenager.  Sister is still sneaking into his room.  On her knees.  Check out that lady’s cockeyed head.  If that little dude were to wake up and see his mom pretending she’s a lion or a dog or an anteater or a circus-trained elephant in the hallway outside of his room, he would have to be immediately driven straight to a counselor’s office in his pajamas (after knocking that opposum, I mean, cat off of his bed first.  No, maybe it’s a opposum?  Or maybe a newborn babirusa?).

Now this picture on the left just beats all I’ve ever seen, Nadine.  After little dude grew up and moved away, sister decided it would be a good time to COMMIT A CRIME.  I’ll tell you what I would have committed if she came crawling into my second-floor room in the middle of the night.  HER.  In a looney bin.  Mrs. Butterworth here managed to load up her HUGE wooden ladder, prop it against her son’s window, climb up the dang thing, pick up her son, rearrange the covers a bit and sing her love song to him while rocking back and forth.  If I were her, I would have requested that pet of his make his way out the window to enjoy the REALLY LARGE CRESCENT MOON’S light OUTSIDE before situating myself under my son’s tonnage.  I’m sure that pet is supposed to be a cat, but, lawduhmercy, that cat is small.  He’s either way out of proportion with the rest of the picture, just born or got caught up in Rick Moranis’s’s’s’s’s’s “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids” machine.  He’s about the same size as Narcoleptic’s feet. 
I am fairly certain that is supposed to the same cat in the picture below where NarNar is cooking his mushrooms over the hot kitchen sink.

Don’t get me wrong here, friends.  I love the book and want you to buy it if you don’t have it.   Keep the cycle going and buy it for the next baby shower you attend.  The story is so sweet AND you get a little extra dose of  “Cops”-like, “Bad boys, bad boys, what you gonna do”-esque action with the scene depicted above, which I always value in a children’s book.


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