So some wiseass put this on my desk the other day. I figured, “Maybe someone is trying to send me a message.” Then I figured, “Wait, screw them and their message!” Then I read the damn book.
Peter may be a baby, but his sister is a total beyotch. Nature will force Peter to stop being a baby, but beyotch is 4 life, yo.
She can’t stop pointing out that he can’t talk. Because he’s 1. He can only say “baba” and “dada” while she, “…can even count to three in French.” Great. Nothing like a little dopey kid counting to French. Nothing I like more than going to a summer cookout, having a kid tell me she can count to three in French, and then sitting thinking about how my life is slipping away while she struggles to get through deux.
Also, she complains that Peter crawls on all fours. But…they’re bears. I would argue that him crawling on all fours is probably a more acceptable way to get around than walking on hind legs.
These parents need to get their shit together, otherwise they’ll raise an egomaniac daughter suited only to be a very mean business lady or some kind of weird church leader type who always has to outdo everyone else with her marshmallow squares, and their son is going to be so devoid of self-esteem that he’ll end up destroying himself with booze and pills shortly after releasing his sophomore acoustic album.