I looked at this picture, and I knew there were just some things going on here that I didn’t really like.

1) Aside from the fact that her son looks exactly like her but is male and has blonde hair, I wondered, why can I see his handsome face? Where is his helmet? I don’t care if he has training wheels, he still needs a helmet.

2) When out with a young child, girlfriend should not wear skirts that will allow everyone to see her butt if she needs to bend over.  In a bar? Fine.  With your kid?  Not fine.  Although I hate her for her nice legs.  Maybe I’m just jealous. Whatever.

3) Probably the worst thing is the cellphone that is attached to her head.  One of my pet peeves is parents who go out with their kids and do nothing but talk on their cell.   And it doesn’t even look like it is a fun conversation.  My son’s school has actually gone so far as to ban cellphones from the campus.  When at events or picking up their kids, parents are not allowed to yak away while their son or daughter tries to tell them about their painting.  Glinda approves.

4) The child has a Rolling Stones shirt on.   In pink.  I’m gonna say no.  The Rolling Stones just don’t do pink.

And, for those of you scratching their heads and saying to themselves, who is this woman, anyway?  I have this clue- Chris Isaak, Wicked Game. 

As longtime TeenyManolo-goers know, the ol’ raincoaster here is not normally what you might call all about the cute. I have never yet been mistaken for a character from Pokemon, nor for any plucky heroine from some wholesome novel for young girls. I’m the Bad Auntie: the one who lets them swear, the one who feeds them pie for breakfast, the one who hooks them on computer games, the one who takes them to the racetrack instead of the pony rides.

And yet, this little story warmed even the crisped and sere cockles of my freeze-dried heart, which grew three sizes upon persusal of these poignant paragraphs.

…The old man’s smile was unbelievable, the kind of smile that infected onlookers alike. I know I must have had the same smile upon my face after viewing this event. After, I thought to myself, maybe humans will turn out alright.

Well, what are you still doing here? Go read it!

The New York Times reports that Nair, not happy with reaching every grown person on the planet with a pair of X chromosones (and maybe a few XY’s to boot) who might want to remove their unwanted hair, ups the ante with Nair Pretty.

Nair Pretty is specifically targeted to 10-15 year olds.

Uhhhh, when I was ten, I don’t think I was even remotely concerned with hair removal.  And I consider my young self to have been fairly girly and a little overly concerned with her looks, as most pre-teen girls are.

Unfortunately, this is where the problem lies.  Today’s society is more obsessed than ever with looking perfect.  Pre-teen girls are especially susceptible to this kind of marketing ploy because it plays upon their insecurities.  It makes them look at their legs, probably covered with peach fuzz and think, “Yuck, that needs to go.”

Stacy Feldman, vice president of marketing for the company who sells the product, is quoted as saying, “When a girl removes hair for the first time, it’s a life-changing moment.”  Life-changing?  Is she trying to put leg hair up there with the first kiss? I am shocked, just shocked, that this person who only wants to make money off your kids would say something like that.

And, check out the “Mom’s Corner” portion of the Nair Pretty website.  All the advice on talking to your daughter about the onset of puberty from a faceless mega-corporation you could ever ask for!

But hey, why am I suprised?  This is the same country where Bratz dolls outsell Barbies. It was only a matter of time.