We all like butts. Thanks to something in our biological disposition towards the derrier, a thing of booty is a joy forever.
But what do you do when your child suddenly becomes obsessed with badonkadonk?!
"With the help of his brothers, our middle son is writing and illustrating a book titled Look of Butts, with sketches of bottoms all labeled with the care of little Adam naming the creatures. His taxonomy of tushes features species like the “Pac-Man Crack-Man,” the “Doggone-It Wiggler,” and my favorite, the “Origanal.” There’s even one butt inspired by birdwatching: the “Binocs.”
The drawings are stylistic and abstract, with baroque lines and improbable angles. In fact, the illustrator seemed less interested in realistic representation of actual rears than in a kind of platonic ideal, an essence of “butt-ness.” The result is a cross between a Pocket Guide to the Gluteus Maximus and an artist’s sketchbook of the derrière. He also has a population chart that maps the frequency with which each butt species appears, ranging from common butts (the Warthog Nose, for example, of which there are 1,251), all the way down to threatened, endangered, and extinct (the Robot Butt, sadly, was last seen in 1781).
Some parents would not encourage their children in such pursuits. And when we first found Look of Butts pages scattered across the basement floor, my husband and I did consider nipping this cheeky project in the bud. We were grateful that he apparently confined his butt-drawing to our home, but still: aren’t kids supposed to draw rainbow-colored fish, steep-roofed houses, and mommies and daddies floating, Chagall-like, through the sky? Drawing 40-some breeds of butt seemed a little odd, if not deviant. Creative, but deviant."
To find out how the parents dealt with their son's new hobby, make sure to check out the rest of the story on Babble.com!