Nervous Girl

In which I singlehandedly solve the childhood obesity epidemic and the pretentious baby name epidemic

In the '50s, '60s, and '70s there was no childhood obesity epidemic. There was no childhood obesity epidemic because children were active. Children were active because they played outside. They played outside because they had time to. They had time to because they weren't being shuttled from Tae Kwon Do to piano lessons to Spanish class. They weren't being shuttled from Tae Kwon Do to cello lessons to Spanish class because those things didn't exist. Those things didn't exist because parents didn't think they needed to. Parents didn't think they needed to because the kids were already perfectly happy and well-adjusted playing sandlot baseball and freeze tag in the park down the block.

Kids could play in the park down the block because they had wholesome, normal names like Jimmy and Bobby and Debbie and Susie. When your mom leans out the back door and yells, "Bobbyyyyyyyy!" that carries all the way down the street, and you come running. Which further contributes to your fitness.

Do me a favor. Go to your back door and try to yell Jaden or Addison or Creston or Paris. Kinda sticks in your throat like a hairball, doesn't it? You can't get a kid home from the park with that kind of name. Hell, you can't even get a kid to drop his DS by yelling one of those sissy names. Want a well-adjusted, rosy-cheeked, active kid? Give 'em a nice normal name that will carry across at least four back yards, with a lawnmower running in one of them.

Think about it. You know I'm onto something here.

If only I'd thought of this before I'd named my kids (sniffy English prep-school name) and (sniffy Jane Austen heroine name).

The School Book Fair: The Rules

1. We are here to buy books.

2. Number one would seem obvious, but what it means is: we will not be buying that $13 electronic pen that sends messages to that *other* $13 dollar electronic pen within a ten foot range. If I want to spend $26 for you and your sibling to communicate with each other when you're in the same room, I will buy you 1300 pencils. And a pad of paper.

3. Similarly, I will not be buying you that plastic pointer with the creepy little gloved hand on top, the little plastic purse trimmed in marabou feathers, or the plastic bobblehead Chihuahua. In fact, if it's made of plastic, it's almost certainly not a book, and see Rule #1 above.

4. While we're at it, no books with props. No books that come with stickers, markers, stuffed animals, charms or other jewelry. And absolutely no books with electronic sound effects. If it requires bells and whistles beyond good writing and nicely-drawn illustrations, it's probably not worth reading.

5. Also: No books that are based on TV shows, movies, trading cards, toys or computer games. I realize that you are young and may not realize whether a character in a book predates a character in a movie, so let me spell it out for you: Charlotte's Web, Curious George, and Arthur can come home with us. Hannah Montana, High School Musical, and Pokemon cannot.

6. Last but not least, a guiding principle: Titles in great literature almost never contain the word "fart."