Last year, around this time, my husband and preschool-aged child came home from our local bookstore with a new-to-us Berenstain Bears book: Thanksgiving Blessings (2013). My husband said, with a glint in his eye, “Why don’t you read the new book with J.?” I tried but had to stop so many times to say, “I hate this,” and “Oh my GOD!” that my daughter got annoyed and wandered away. “It’s a Mike?” I asked my husband. “It’s a Mike,” he confirmed.
I write to you today, fellow parents, to explain what that means—and to issue a warning.