MyThreeDaughters

I yanked an ad out of the Sunday paper (again folks, that’s a thing with news in it that they throw on your porch every morning…for now).
I saved it so I could make fun of it. The Living Baby Doll: She sucks on a pacifier! She gently falls asleep! She turns her head!”
And the kicker: “She responds to you like a real baby.”
You mean, she wakes up every 90 minutes, she spits up on your couch every time she eats, she screams and writhes and kicks her legs and tries to smear poop everywhere when you try to change her diaper?
(That’s right, I like ’em better once they start walking.)
And the best part, the real-fake baby costs only $149.
It was as if they put this ad in the paper just so I could lampoon it, but the plan backfired.
I left it sitting out, Fontaine saw it, and now she wants one.
But Fontaine is, at times, WBHY, Wise Beyond Her Years. Here’s what she got from the ad:
“It’s a real baby, only it doesn’t cry. But I read it, and it said it’s only for adults to collect, which is silly. Really silly.”
That’s my girl. I am so proud.
Now, I’m going to take this ad, crumple it up and bury it in the trash can under some coffee grounds.