The World Wants My Kid To Be a Dickhead
Not That She Needs Much Help
“Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an English man.” The giant chased Jack who was fleeing down the beanstalk. When Jack reached the bottom he fetched an axe and with a thwack thwack thwack, he chopped down the beanstalk with the giant still climbing down, thereby murdering his innocent victim after already robbing him of his hen and harp.
One thing I’m learning as I drag my unwilling toddler into the world of literature is that kids' books are all fucking horrific.
The message of the story seems to be either that the height of a girl’s ambition should be to marry someone handsome or that all your problems can be solved with theft and violence.
Looking for love? Stick a pea under an unsuspecting girl’s mattress and force her to marry you.
Tired and hungry? Break into someone’s house, steal their porridge, and sleep in their bed
Impoverished and stupid enough to trade a cow for a handful of beans? Steal a tall person’s golden chicken then murder them as they try to retrieve it.
But we’re supposed to believe that it’s rap music and violent computer games that are corrupting our children.
