This morning in the preschool drop-off line, there suddenly appeared a snake in my car. I knew this because of the (suspiciously preschooler-sounding) hiss emanating from behind my seat. Without warning, another snake joined in from the passenger-side back seat too. I was surrounded. "OH NO! A SNAKE! A SNAKE" I called out. "Quick! What would scare a snake? ...A dog!" So I started barking furiously, even growling, but it was to no avail. Two silly snakes were still coming after me. My dog made fearful whines and ran off. "What else would scare a snake?" I said. (The snakes laughed at me. They laughed!) "A bear!" And so I started growling, albeit not very convincingly. I even swung my best paws in the air in the general direction of the snakes' reflections in my rear-view mirror. Did it scare them? Not even a bit. My bear lost its bluster and ran to hide in the bushes. I was running out of options. "OH NO! HELP! What will sca

A few months ago, my then-4-year-old son was a bit under the weather -- froggy throat, crusty nose, occasional cough. So we spent the morning of an otherwise beautiful fall day watching cartoons. Usually I stick to the educational stuff, but he saw a commercial for something about genies who grant wishes while getting into mayhem, and he begged to watch more. Who can resist a flying carpet story and a nemesis with long purple hair? Sure, why not. During a break in the mystical action, we saw this commercial for something called Barbie New Born Pups. In the ad, Barbie kneels next to a blonde dog of unrecognizable pedigree-- a golden retriever maybe? -- and gives it a loving scratch. The next thing you know, human hands push down on the dog's back, the dog crouches down a bit, and from out of the dog's middle region falls a puppy. There's no warning, no signs of labor, no backstory about a lovable mutt neighbor-dog who jumped over the fence a few months ago. Just BAM.