This wonderful publication - sure to be a children's classic - helps said young kiddlewinks come to grips with the fact that their Mum looks like she's had the shit beaten out of her face or has has her nipples sliced off and reattached a bit higher up through razor-sharp dialogue such as this: "As I got older, my body stretched and I couldn't fit into my clothes anymore. Dr Michael is going to help fix that and make me feel better".
Phew, is it cold in here or did someone just walk over C.S Lewis' grave?
Naturally the book has come in for its share of criticism but personally I think it's well overdue. Sure, I mean the society we live in has gotten pretty good over the years at making us all feel ugly but when does that process start? Age 12? 15? 20? Pah, why let them roll about, the fat little guppies, happily believing they're not bad as they are and that what you look like isn't paramount only to burst the bubble in their teens? Get 'em while they're young and by the time they're 12 they'll be lining up for Botox.
And I'm already looking forward to the sequel: Why Nobody Likes Puppy Fat and You Shouldn't Either.