It looked like a vagina had exploded in there. There were a row of petite purses made to look like chocolate chip cookies, a set of red plastic lips containing mint lip gloss, a bubble gum pink voile skirt hanging with a dainty black cardigan, a tiara festooned with powder blue fluff. There were racks of alternating orange and yellow boas, a stack of fuchsia headbands with white dots, a giant purple flower attached to a silver hair clip and a trio of white unicorns with gold horns and eyes. “You baby store people are totally fucking with me,” I thought, my mouth hanging open so that it looked like I was having a mild stroke. Daring to glance at the boy wall, I saw one measly pair of denim overalls and a sad stack of brown Jimi Hendrix onesies. “Can I help you?” asked the clerk. Not unless you can turn an XY into an XX. I was aware that it looked pretty strange, me standing there, mouth wide open, not moving, but I couldn’t tell the truth, that I was pissed off about all these girlie treats I coveted for the daughter I wasn’t having.
What do You think about Exploiting My Baby (2010)?
