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Love Poems for People with Children

Product ID : 41769751


Galleon Product ID 41769751
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About Love Poems For People With Children

Product Description In the spirit of his wildly popular New Yorker pieces and the New York Times bestseller Love Poems for Married People, Thurber-prize winner John Kenney presents a hilarious new collection of poetry for people with children. With the same brilliant wit and hilarious realism that made Love Poems for Married People such a hit, John Kenney is back with a brand new collection of poems, this time taking on the greatest "joy" in life: children. Kenney covers it all, from newborns, toddlers, and sleep deprivation, to the terrible twos, terrible tweens, and terrible teens. A parent's love is unconditional, but sometimes that button can't help but be pushed. Between back to school shopping, summer vacations that never end, the awkwardness of puberty, the inevitable post-college moving back in, and more, a parent's job is never done, whether they like it or not. Review One of Fredericksburg Free Lance Star's Best Books of 2019  “Packed full of laugh-out-loud poems that are all too relatable if you are married with kids—or just married.”  –The Washington Post “[A] hilarious look into parenting.” —TODAY  "Kenney's sweet, funny poems about the banal and everyday—too-true nods to the intimacy of sharing a bed with someone without touching at all, or the nothing-speak of corporate communication—make great presents for spouses, friends, and work wives."  —Vanity Fair “Often profound, often hilarious, Kenney captures what it's like to raise a human being from the ground up.” —Cleveland Scene“[ Love Poems for People with Children] will be immediately relatable to all parents and a much needed laugh. So the next time you're hiding out in a public restroom, like the subject in one of the poems, give this book a read.” —Parkersburg News & Sentinel“Perfect as a stocking stuffer for that soon-to-be-parent or the already-a-parent-I-never-realized-how-good-my-hair-looked-unshowered-for-four-days on your holiday list....These little gems make life glow a little brighter.” —Fredericksburg Free Lance Star About the Author John Kenney is the New York Times bestselling author of the humorous poetry collection Love Poems for Married People, and the novels Talk to Me and Truth in Advertising, which won the Thurber Prize for American Humor. He has worked for many years as a copywriter. He has also been a contributor to The New Yorker magazine since 1999. He lives in Brooklyn, New York. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. My six-year-old got hold of my phone   My apologies, Reverend.   My six-year-old   got hold   of my phone   and sent you   142   poop emojis.   Please know   that this in no way   reflects my opinion of you   or the Church.   (Although it does make me wonder if there is a god.)   To my father-in-law, Lou.   No grandparent should ever receive   a GIF of Fabio not wearing pants   dancing suggestively   with the words   Let's get it on!   I was sure I had deleted that.   To my boss, Gary.   Did you happen to receive a photo   of a baboon's ass   with a note reading   Found this picture of you?   I sent that one.   If there were a job interview to have children   The interviewer might say   I see here that you want children.   And you might say, Yes! I'm ready.   Great. Are you happy in your marriage?   Very. My wife is amazing.   Good for you. Just a couple of questions. When's the last time you went to hear live music?   Two weeks ago. Last-minute thing. Saw a jazz band.   Last time on a plane?   Paris, I think. Yes. We went to Paris for four days.   Did you sleep on the plane?   Yes. It was an overnight flight.   Did anyone throw up on you at any time?   No. Of course not. Why?   Did anyone on the plane wake you suddenly by screaming in your face?   What? No.   May I ask about the frequency of your sex life?   Average, I guess. Five or six times a week.   How wonderful. I'd like you to take this paper from me. Do you feel anything?   What the hell . . . what is this? It's sticky and it