Brutal

One day, after Rose Red regaled us with a very loud, flat rendition of this song she learned at school from Miss Sandy, called "Blowing in the Wind," it occurred to my husband to introduce the girls to Guns n Roses. Rose Red was the more adept of the two at forming the Sign of the Horns, but Snow White had a better head-banging rhythm and didn't sway dangerously side-to-side.

 
The next day, I discovered the Vegan Black Metal Chef video, in which a chef in Kiss make-up demonstrates the preparation of vegan pad thai. He is accompanied by instructions in a Cookie Monster growl and supported by the guitar-work of Skwisgaar Skwigelf. Being vegan is so metal.

Coming on the heels of Snow White's weaning as these events did, my thoughts naturally turned to Metalocalypse. When Snow White was only weeks old we were struggling to get the milk to flow. After marathon nursing sessions, I would hand her to her dad and go sit on the couch with a hospital grade pump for fifteen minutes. We were also waking up with a timer every two hours to make sure no feedings were missed at night even if the newborn wanted to sleep. (Yes, I know, a Faustian bargain – more milk for your soul, I mean sleep.)

As a result, I could sometimes convince myself that five minutes at the pump were fifteen. I could even fall asleep at the pump. To keep myself awake, I watched TV. To keep from watching TV for more than fifteen minutes, I watched Metalocalypse. Each episode is almost exactly fifteen minutes.

My favorite episode was the one where the band members reunite with their families and end up making a family music video because, as those nursing days taught me so well,


 

There is nothing more brutal than raising children.