Silence is a Scary Sound
And Other Stories on Living Through the Terrible Twos and Threes
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5.0 • 9 Ratings
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- $9.99
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- $9.99
Publisher Description
I’d gone to college. I’d written for the New York Times. I had a solid credit score. How did I end up here?
After his breakout hit book I’m Sorry . . . Love, Your Husband, Clint Edwards has more laugh-out-loud tales, this time from the “terrible twos” and “threenager” phases each of his kids went through.
His relatable toddler stories leave parents and caregivers cackling, and remind us all that no one is the perfect parent. In fact, sometimes the only thing that gets Clint through the day is thinking about when his kids grow up . . . and all the ways he can finally exact his revenge. Like leaving a leaky sippy cup full of milk to rot under the back seat of his daughter’s car, or waking up at 4 a.m. to incessantly ask his son for a cheese stick.
With essays like Locking Doors Is Hilarious Until the Fire Department Arrives, Poop Doesn’t Go Easily Down a Tub Drain, Dad’s Never the Favorite, and Face It—You’ll Never Pee Alone, Clint knows exactly what’s “terrible” about the twos . . . and threes.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Edwards (I'm Sorry... Love, Your Husband), creator of the parenting blog No Idea What I'm Doing, reports from the front lines of parenthood in this engaging and often hilarious collection of essays. Parents of children of all ages will appreciate (or shudder at) Edwards's tales of the years when a baby becomes mobile and life as one knew it implodes. Preschoolers, he informs the childless, can summon bedlam in ways no adult can imagine: creating a ketchupy homemade slip-and-slide on the kitchen floor, dancing in the soda spray from a shaken can, or puking into a parent's mouth. Intertwined with the comical tales of toddler-induced chaos are moments of fear and helplessness, like the time two-year-old Norah locked herself in her bedroom. As the hours passed and the tears increased, and with the locksmith a no-show, Edwards's resolve hardened: embarrassment be damned, he and his wife had better call 911. As Edwards found through his blog, many dads had comparably mortifying story to share. Edwards's observations both tender musings on his struggles to be a good father, and dyspeptic grousing on lousy Father's Day gifts will find fans in anyone who has ever tangled with a poopy diaper and lost.
