Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank

June 12, 2006
In some 32 short essays on the ridiculousness of modern life, Rivenbark (Bless Your Heart, Tramp
; We're Just Like You, Only Prettier
) wanders through Tweenland at the mall, thinking a better name would be "Lil Skanks." She thinks that the Cruise/Holmes pregnancy has an "indescribably delicious" Rosemary's Baby
feel to it and recalls that Monica Lewinsky hosted a TV dating show—in which she "didn't get the guy." Rivenbark riffs on America's crazier obsessions—the painful but obligatory pilgrimage to Disney World, the new attention to "buttocks cleavage," coffee makers calling themselves baristas, or those celebrity moms who have "bumps" instead of babies. Rivenbark describes herself as a "slacker mom" and reminds readers to learn something from men—"because no matter how slack a dad is, if he does the least little thing, people gush over him." This is a hilarious read, perhaps best enjoyed while eating Krispy Kremes with a few girlfriends.