Are you kidding me right now, Nancy Tillman?

Do you see this book I’m holding right here? Are you seriously seeing this?? This is a book called I’d Know You Anywhere My Love and I’m about to GO OFF on the author Nancy Tillman right now.

Nancy, if you’re reading this, I have a bone to pick with you. First off, how about putting a damn warning label on the front cover of this book? This book was given to my daughter as a gift by her buddy, Calvin (via his parents). I grabbed it unknowingly as a new bedtime book to read, and by page 3, my damn eyes had swollen up like water balloons. By page 4, I could barely get the air out of my lungs. Then, by page 5, I could barely speak English properly.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” asked my daughter.

“Fucking, Nancy Tillman…” I thought to myself.

I took a breath and regrouped.

“Nothing, baby. It’s okay. Daddy’s fine” I finally replied in broken sentences.

BUT WAS I FINE? Absolutely not. By the end of this book, I was shaking. I WAS NOT PREPARED TO GO THIS DEEP, NANCY. NOT ON A DAMN TUESDAY NIGHT. I was doing fine. JUST FINE. But then you rip a crater into my heart. All I wanted to do was put my child to sleep but I just ended up sitting on her bed, squeezing the jelly out of her because your dumb subtext and stupid pictures rocked my core and now she’s looking at me like I’ve lost all my marbles.

Anyway, everybody do me a favor and don’t get this book. Don’t even open it. I saw it sitting on the side table at a friends house this week and I had to throw it across the room. I can’t even allow it near me anymore. Save yourself the time and energy.

I’m joking. Get this book asap. It’s amazing. Nancy, I love you.


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