Now look, I’m not the Parenting Police. I don’t cast stones because god knows I let my kid play with and do a lot of shit that he probably shouldn’t. He watches too much TV, eats too many french fries (we’re not still calling them “freedom fries,” are we? because that was Sofa King WE TODD IT), climbs on too many couches.
I don’t feel terribly guilty about any of those things (except maybe the couch surfing incident, that one DID hurt, me more than him), mostly because my kid is still amazingly awesome and sweet and smart and funny and healthy, in spite of the fact that I have absolutely NO IDEA what I am doing. But I also recognize that has occurred through a simple stroke of sheer luck and IN NO WAY qualifies me to make judgments about what anyone else lets their kid do or climb on or play with.
I’m pretty sure that this toy is fucked up. And by “fucked up,” I don’t mean “broken.” I mean “either mildly perv-y OR at the very least someone’s eye just waiting to be put out.”
I’m almost positive that $21.99 is too high a price to pay for your kid running around the house screaming and smacking people WITH A FUCKING WHIP.
I would imagine that Kunta Kinte might have something to say about it, too. Probably something like, “MY NAME IS NOT TOBY PUT THE WHIP AWAY, BITCHES. Can’t we all just watch a little Reading Rainbow instead of whipping each other with sound effects?!?”