Go To Blazes, You Stupid Gorilla

This week, I was invited to guest post on Nicole Leigh Shaw’s Ninja Mom Blog under her wildly popular “Character Assassination Carousel” section.  For those not in the know, the CAC is a collection of hilarious essays by bloggers far and wide lampooning, skewering and roasting the children’s books we’ve come to hate reading night, after night, affffttteer niiiight, after night.  Authors have hung Curious George out to dry, chopped The Giving Tree down to size and have asked that no more pancakes be given to mice, pigs or other vermin.

Last month, Alice At Wonderland took a swipe, no, a STAB, at Babar and, frankly, I’m with her:  a book with death on page 6, people who don’t blink an eye when an elephant is walking down a Parisian street and a wedding in the last reel deserves to be put in it’s place.  And, for the record:  is it BA-bar or Ba-BAR?

Turns out, we parents have very specific opinions on the books we loathe.

I, of course, am no exception.

When Mrs. Shaw first approached me about this assignment (and by “approached”, I mean when I first begged her to let me get on the carousel by promising to stop stalking her so much), the list of books I wanted to skewer was long but distinguished.   After perusing the Carousel list, I realized the book I loathed the most was noticeably absent:

One book that was the bane of my existence when I was an Oh, So Tired mother of toddlers.One book that tried my patience, even when Fruit Loop #2 used her cute toddler language to ask me to read it.One book that makes having an ice pick in your eye seem like a beautiful spring day wrapped in a hot fudge sundae. What’s the book, you ask? Good Night, Gorilla. Or, as my two year old Fruit Loop used to say, “Nigh, Nigh, Dorilla”.

Good Night, Gorilla is described in an Amazon review as, “….an adorable book with a charming story and wonderful illustrations”.

 

Uh huh.

 

Here’s the thing, folks:  THERE ARE NO WORDS IN THIS ADORABLE BOOK WITH A CHARMING STORY.

 

As in, parents who are forced to read this sucker at the end of a mind numbing day filled with toddler tantrums, spilled sippy cups and laundry that doesn’t end HAVE TO MAKE A STORY UP.  The parent is forced to narrate the “wonderful illustrations”.  And, if you are raising child prodigies like mine, the parent is forced to remember the stupid story you made up the night before because the Fruit Loops will call your hiney out if you get it wrong.

 

Really, Gorilla?  RE-ALLY?

 

GNG opens with an illustration of a sneaky gorilla stealing the Zookeeper’s keys, which just happen to be conveniently in reach OF A GORILLA.  I don’t know about the rest of you, but, uhm, I saw what that chimpanzee did to that poor woman’s face.  Imma keep my keys good and far from your gorilla hands if I’m the Zookeeper in charge, thank you VERY much.  Ahem.

We then follow the Gorilla as he sneaks out of his cage after using the aforementioned keys and he proceeds to follow the Zookeeper through the zoo.  As he follows this clearly heavily medicated, quite possibly drunk Zookeeper through the zoo, that tricky Gorilla unlocks an Elephant, a Lion, a Hyena, a Giraffe, an Armadillo and at some point, which is not clear BECAUSE THERE ARE NO WORDS, a Mouse joins the melee.  

Now, things really get out of hand on page 13.  The Zookeeper, clearly deaf, medicated and/or stoned, trudges home with a Gorilla, an Elephant, a Lion, a Giraffe, a Hyena, an Armadillo and a rascally little mouse tip toeing behind him.  The Zookeeper apparently has chosen to live within walking distance from the zoo, thereby ensuring that every BBQ they have smells like hippo dung.  Oh, wait.  There’s no hippo in this story.  Because that would be ridiculous.

These sneaky animals follow that Zookeeper right on into his house, which, by the way, is large enough to accommodate animals that belong in the Serengeti.  Clearly, I have chosen the wrong profession as it seems being a Zookeeper pays major bank if he can live in a house that a giraffe can waltz right into…but, I digress.  And, interestingly, the animals don’t disturb a single picture on the wall.  I live with two Fruit Loops who could learn a thing or two from these animals, I must say.

This is where things get interesting.  Ve-ry interesting.  These zoo escapees crawl into bed with The Zookeeper and The Missus.   This poor woman has spent an entire day making sure The Zookeeper’s kingdom has been managed and handled and she’s just collapsed into a coma dreaming of the day her husband won’t come home smelling like a hippo’s ass.  Sorry.  A hyena’s ass.  The lady just needs sleep.  And she’s about to come face to face with the reason her husband smells so bad.  She says “Good night, dear.”…..wait for it……

THE ANIMALS SAY GOOD NIGHT BACK!!!  I did NOT see that coming and can’t believe I had to wait 22 pages to see the words “Good Night” repeated seven times.  Now THAT was a shocking plot twist.

And The Missus be like “Whachu Talkin’ ‘Bout Willis?”

And then she be like “Aw, hells to the no!  My three kids will be climbing into this bed at 2 am, 3:15 am and 3:45 am respectively.  Ain’t nobody got time to have a primate in your bed!”.  Or an Elephant.  Or a Giraffe.  Or a Hyena.  Or an Armadillo.  Or a mouse.  You get my point.

This is the part that frosts me every time: it’s not the Zookeeper that drags those sorry, sneaky, no good, zoo escapees back to their cages.  Nope.  It’s The Missus.  IT’S ALWAYS THE MOM THAT HAS TO DO THIS KIND OF CRAP AT 2 am.  Can I get a holla?

The poor woman trudges BACK to her house and climbs into bed for a well deserved slumber.  But, what’s this?  He’s BAAAAAAAACK……stupid douche canoe Gorilla.

Now, I’m sorry.  But this part is on The Missus.  I know she’s sleep deprived and had the day from hell with her three toddlers but, really, I don’t know ONE. SINGLE. MOM. who wouldn’t have gone ape shit (pun intended) on any creature that followed her out of a place she had just told them to stay. This is where the author lost all credibility with me.  Who am I kidding?  Ms. Rathmann lost me on page 2.

Our story ends with the Gorilla snug in bed between an exhausted mom and a sleeping the doobage off Zookeeper.

 

And what is WITH that mouse???

 

So, there you have it.  If you own Good Night, Gorilla and are forced to read this to your children on a daily basis, my sympathies.  If you don’t own it, feel glad.  And lucky.  If you are looking to buy books for a children’s library, please, for the love of all that is holy, PLEASE consider the parents when you buy a book.  If you don’t want to make bull puckey up at the end of your day, DON’T MAKE ME DO IT in the form of a gift from you.  

 

Go To Blazes, Stupid Gorilla.  And take your lunatic escapees with you.

 

Stay tuned for next month’s CAC installment from Lynn at The Nomad Mom Diary.  Knowing Lynn, it will be filled with  hilariousness and, since she writes from across the pond, one can only hope she chooses a book Princess Kate loathes, too.  Because even princesses get tired of reading about Gorillas who don’t utter a word, too….