God, I think I want to marry Dora the Explorer. I know I’m way behind the curve on these things but I’ve been trying to force Baby Einstein down my baby’s throat long since she’s lost interest. I’m like “But El, what about Baby Neptune? You used to love baby Neptune!” And she just looks at me with those saucer eyes that say “Mom, you are so two months ago. Baby Neptune is for babies not Toddlers. Did you get my text message? I’m a Toddler now! Jesus, mom, I really thought you were smarter than that.” Turns out I’m not. I just would pop in “Baby Noah” and hope for the best.
Then my husband came home with the holy grail — Dora the Explorer. It’s educational and it features a monkey which I love. Monkies are always funny. Except when they’re biting people to death at wild animal reserves and ripping their lips and tongues and genitals off…but that old news story was pre-Zoloft and I try not to think about it as much anymore.
Now, the only problem I have with Dora’s friend the monkey whose name is Boots is that Boots’ best friend is a pair of boots. That just doesn’t seem right to me. Your best friend is an inanimate object? I mean yes, my best friend is Pinot Grigio but I think that’s very different. GOD I LOVE DORA. Did I mention she also has cool hair? But I tried to get mine cut like that once a few years ago and due to the somewhat hidden thickness of my hair, it didn’t hang like a smooth bob. It sat on my head like a top hat only less dignified. I actually had to let Fantastic Sam’s fix it. When Fantastic Sam’s is fixing your hair you know there were a lot of tears involved.
Luckily I was married or I don’t think I would have had sex for a good six months.
Anyway, props to Dora! Go on with your bad Spanish/English speaking self!