The kids aren't alright

In case you hadn’t noticed, people these days are up in arms about the hypersexualization of America’s youth. You can’t open a newspaper or turn on the television without coming across yet another article about thongs for ten year-olds, or middle-school pimps, or a billion other examples of young’uns engaging in activities from which they’d be better off abstaining for the next several years.

Of course, everyone has their theories about why the kids are getting so over-sexed… but after a visit to K-Mart last weekend, I’m pretty sure I’ve found the ultimate culprit:

This is it! Sitting innocuously in the "impulse-buy" section just west of the checkout line! Here, before you, is the children’s book that is the insidious source of everything that’s wrong with America’s youth.

First, of course, there’s the title – Bathtime Peek-a-boo sounds an awful lot like a game for adults, a sort of waterlogged version of That’s-Not-The-Popcorn. And then there’s the yellow bathtub duck who, with his cajoling smile, seems to be saying, “Don’t be afraid, kids. You can trust Uncle Duckie. Uncle Duckie is awfully fond of you. And if you ever tell anyone what Uncle Duckie does when we play Bathtime Peek-a-boo, Uncle Duckie will be very upset and then UNCLE DUCKIE WILL KILL YOUR WHOLE FAMILY.”

And then, at last, there is the subtitle – which, in case you can’t quite make it out, is here in extreme close-up:

Yep, that’s right. According to this book, the ultimate in bathtime fun for children is something called “touch-and-feel and lift-the-flap”.

Let’s just consider that for a minute. I don’t think I even need to say anything. Lift-the-flap? Seriously???

I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but if someone tried to wander into my childhood bathroom and then, with wild abandon, start touching and feeling and lifting up fucking FLAPS, I’m pretty sure my father would have put a stop to that immediately, and Uncle Duckie would be selling his evil little bathtime experience from behind bars.

Of course, that didn’t stop me from buying the book – I’m a consenting adult, I can do whatever I want. (hey, Uncle Duckie… Peek-a-boo, you sexy motherfucker!)