Still looking for the perfect gift to show your love of daddy this weekend? Well, boy oh boy, do I have the must-get gift for you… The Art of Roughhousing: Good Old-Fashioned Horseplay and Why Every Kid Needs It.

Here’s a sneak peak:

Complete with ultra-simple diagrams for a safe “raucous pillow fight” or round of “human cannonball, The Art of Roughhousing is a manual: filled with cool moves, techniques, games, and roughhousing ideas—with easy-to-follow instructions and illustrations. There are old favorites, like airplane, and new ones, like Rogue Dumbo and Crane.

In direct correlation to how much I loved everything about Go The F*ck To Sleep, I hate the shit out of this book.

From an Associated Press article making the rounds:

Each activity in the guide is accompanied by a ’50s-style visual aid and written in an easy-to-follow format offering the ages of kids it can benefit, the level of difficulty and the essential skills it offers.

Take the Raucous Pillow Fight. Such a thing is good for children 4 and up. Its difficulty is “easy” and it teaches “losing and winning.” The best pillows for whacking are the big, fluffy kind rather than the small, hard sofa kind.

“When battling your opponent,” the book cautions, “always hold the zippered part of the pillow and whack with the other end to prevent injuries like eyeball lacerations.” CHECK!

Are you fucking kidding me?

What self-respecting parent needs a manual to figure out how to get close and playful with your kid(s)? The book is apparently written for a new genre of completely incompetent, metrosexual and yet helicoptering parent.

The authors lecture about how roughhousing ”flows with spontaneity, improvisation and joy,” but — done right — requires mattresses be hauled out or couch cushions laid on the floor so kids as young as 3 can jump safely from on high.”

Over at the NY Times today, Lisa Belkin conducts what must be the worst-ever Q&A for this dumbest-ever parenting manual. I think she should have her blogging rights revoked for these questions…

• What do you mean by “roughhousing”?
• This is a dad thing, right?
• Isn’t “rough” automatically “bad”? I mean, it’s only fun until someone loses an eye…?
• There are benefits? Like what?
• Your book actually teaches the “art” of roughhousing. What kinds of moves do you include?
• Why do we need roughhousing manuals and workshops, doesn’t it come naturally? (FINALLY the question on everyone’s lips!!! But no follow-up.)

Alright!

First off, I hate these fucking assholes.

Secondly, I want to throw up on this book.