GUEST BLOGGER SERIES
|Today's Guest is Author, Tom Chalfant, aka Curse Of Future Tom|
Well, I can’t help but put a little disclaimer here, because I don’t have nearly the seething hatred for AA that our two-fisted hostess does, and no firsthand experience with the organization at all. I do know a few people who got into AA and sobered up and stayed that way, and good for them.
Of course, I also know lots of people who got into AA and then turned into weird, baggy-eyed Judges, sitting around glugging down coffee with their eyebrows up, trying to get everybody to agree to meet them in weird places at seven o’clock in the morning. They’re annoying, sure, but you can usually shake them by rolling through a bar.
On the way through such a bar, it’s likely that I’d run into a couple of people who used the old AA card to deal with a DUI – look at me, I’m trying to get my life together. For exactly as long as I’m on probation.
The one thing that’s always struck me about AA is their weird definition of alcoholic, and the ingenious way that the very act of arguing with them about it is a clear sign you are one. Remember in the Monty Python movie, how the only way for the woman to prove that she wasn’t a witch was to sink in the lake and drown?
My intake of alcohol has ranged over the years from None At All to Perfectly Fine to Sort Of Alarming to Really, Horribly Unhealthy to Why The Hell Didn’t Tom End Up In Jail. Right now I think I’m at about a Threat Level Orange, if that helps. I’ve never been to a single meeting, but I’ve been propositioned by lots of AA guys, who seem to see me the way Sylvester the Cat sees Tweety Bird, when he’s imagining him all cooked up like a tiny turkey, still swinging in his cage.
Let’s just say I liked AA better when they focused more on that second A. I’ll take a drunk guy who minds his own business over a sober guy who thinks he’s my den mother, absolutely any time.
So why not just pick a little piece of AA-type hilarity off the Internet and then we’ll all have a couple of laughs. The way I see it, everybody needs their underpants snapped once in a while, and that goes for chain-smoking sober people, too.
Which brings us to Mommy Drinks Too Much, a children’s book which just REEKS of AA involvement. I actually, shamelessly altered the title slightly, just purely because I like my title better. Doesn’t matter, because my stars, you just have to get a look at the cover of this thing.
Now before I discuss this book, which is hilarious or not-hilarious-at-all, depending on your perspective, I would like to point out that it is the absolute perfect Mother’s Day gift for your wife, whether she’s the kind of rockin’ momma who likes to tie one on periodically (hilarious) or the kind of Super Mommy who never drinks at all (even more hilarious).
One time I really and truly gave my wife a large wicker statue of an elephant for Christmas. I said, “Here, we can keep this in the living room and then never, ever acknowledge that it’s there.”
That’s good stuff right there – don’t worry about it, it’s on the house.
Anyway, you hand your wife a copy of Mommy Drinks Too Much, and not only are you significantly decreasing your chances of a little Mother’s Day Action, you’re also giving it to the wrong person.
The book is for Mommy’s kids, who need to understand that Mommy turns into a freaking werewolf if she drinks anything, and that it’s not Mommy’s kids’ fault. For some reason, it’s not even Mommy’s fault.
So, yes, if you have kids whose Mommy Drinks Too Much, then this is probably not a very hilarious book to you at all, but I guess you should buy it, right? Might I also add that you are very likely on the wrong blog right now, and that you ought to go ahead and skedaddle.
My favorite part is the beginning, where the picture book shows us an image from the outside of Mommy’s house. Mommy is in the window with a glass of wine, her eyebrows all pointy, shooting off her mouth about how much Dad sucks.
And Dad does kind of suck. You can see him in the background, looking helpless and frightened, having no idea how to tell his drunk ass wife to chill out.
It’s 2010, and wives are allowed to tell their husbands to shut up and calm down, so it’s very important to remember that we’re allowed to tell our wives that, too. Especially if our cartoon daughters are wearing sad faces and hiding under their beds singing Happy Place songs to their teddy bears.
It’s like a really niche version of Everybody Poops. Except instead, it could be called, Not Everybody’s Mommy Drinks Too Much, But Yours Does, So Yeah, That Sucks.
I was kind of surprised actually that there’s not a whole line of these, like the Bearenstein Bears. I could knock out a couple real quick if anybody thinks there’s a market for Daddy’s Hooked On Hookers or Some Guys From The Tracks Are Looking For Grandma. Pre-order a hundred copies and say the word – I’ll make it happen.
Have you read his blog?
Have you read his blog?
BIG FAT THANKS TOM!
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