Monday, June 6, 2011

Tina Fey's Mother's Prayer for Its Daughter

I just finished reading Tina Fey's book Bossypants and laughed the whole way through. It was the perfect read for a beach trip! There is a chapter in it titled "The Mother's Prayer For Its Daughter" - I just had to share it with you. And yes, this is quoted directly from the book. They did not ask me to write about it. I just found it hilarious. And please beware that it does have some touchy subjects and words....

First Lord, No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor
Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it's the Damage that draws the
creepy soccer coach's eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered,
May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half
And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean,
swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing
86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off
escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows,
walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or
anything called "Hell Drop," "Tower of Torture," or "The Death Spiral Rock 'N
Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith," and standing on any kind of balcony, ever,
anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance.
Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually
fulfilled and get outside sometimes
And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design?
I'm asking You, because if I knew, I'd be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy
strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.
Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long.
For Childhood is short - a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day
And Adulthood is long and Dry-Humping in Cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever,
That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers.
And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of
Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her
For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord,
That I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M.,
all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is
leaking up its back.
"My mother did this for me once," she will realize as she cleans feces off
her baby's neck. "My mother did this for me." And the delayed gratitude
will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to
call me. And she will forget.
But I'll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.


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