Don't Lick the Minivan
And Other Things I Never Thought I'd Say to My Kids
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3.8 • 5 Ratings
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- $12.99
Publisher Description
As a woman used to traveling and living the high life in Bangkok, Leanne Shirtliffe recognized the constant fodder for humor while pregnant with twins in Asia’s sin city. But in spite of deep-fried bug cuisine and nurses who cover newborn bassinets with plastic wrap, Shirtliffe manages to keep her babies alive for a year with help from a Coca-Cola deliveryman, several waitresses, and a bra factory. Then she and her husband return home to the isolation of North American suburbia.
In Don’t Lick the Minivan, Shirtliffe captures the bizarre aspects of parenting in her edgy, honest voice. She explores the hazards of everyday life with children such as:
The birthday party where neighborhood kids took home skin rashes from the second-hand face paint she applied.
The time she discovered her twins carving their names into her minivan’s paint with rocks.
The funeral she officiated for “Stripper Barbie.”
The horror of glitter.
And much more!
Shirtliffe eventually realizes that even if she can’t teach her kids how to tie their shoelaces, she’s a good enough mom. At least good enough to start saving for her twins’ therapy fund. And possibly her own. Shirtliffe’s memoir might not replace a therapist, but it is a lot cheaper.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Teacher and blogger Shirtliffe delivers an account, first set in Thailand and later in Canada, of the sometimes humorous, sometimes standard-issue adventures of life with twins. From helping one kid unstick his tongue from an icy surface to nicking the other's finger while trying to clip her nails, many of Shirtliffe's familyhood tales have already been widely broadcast via parenting essay collections and the visual media at large. Some of the most distinctive passages spin the cultural gap between the author's family and their Thai neighbors into comic gold. Others revolve around twin-specific interactions, offering a peek into the closest variety of sibling communication, a type that encompasses old-married-couple laughter as often as it does warring farts. The problem, though, is that though the events are believable, and may warrant a warm smile of camaraderie from those who've personally endured the wacky-normalcy of parenthood, they're simply humorous-enough; they don't stand out. Shirtliffe is at her brightest when she goes for bold, leaving behind safer, ho-hum observations in favor of a sneakier, more subtle wit.
