Well, friends, I’ve done it again.
It happened before, with Charlie Bit My Finger.
And it’s happened again.
I would like to announce that Poor Kyle and I are selling our house to pay for plane tickets to England so we can move there, take up residency, and raise a couple of adorable British children just like this one:
(Sadly, I cannot find a way to embed in my blog the video to which the above link will take you. But if you click it—IF YOU CLICK IT—you will not be disappointed. I am backing up this claim with my AoOL money-back guarantee, it’s THAT GOOD.)
So click it.
And then come back here and tell me how much you love it.
Harriet’s Pet Pea, the most brilliant children’s story I’ve heard since I can’t even think of when, was written by Andrea Boerem, my as-of-five-hours-ago newest literary role model.
Half of me hates her for writing the story before I did.
The other half of me hates myself for such feelings, because I know I never would’ve thought of it and thus, had Andrea not written it, Harriet’s Pet Pea would have never been born, and how sad a place would the world be then, I ask you?
What do you think, should I try to get an interview with Andrea, to pick her brilliant literary mind?