Germans love boobies. It’s in their Constitution.

Chris’ mom buys lots of books for the kiddos, which I love.  And more importantly, they love them.  Both kids have a fascination with books.  And none are more entertaining than the large, board picture books that are full of everyday scenes these: 

 

And this:

But then you delve just a little deeper into the detail and you’ll see photos like this one:

And this one:

And this one of the creepy man in the kids’ sandbox at the pool:

And of course, there’s the woman who maybe has nursed a baby a little too much on one side, and not enough on the other:

And the obligatory old man in a speedo with a walking cane:

And this one only bothers me because there is a baby in a bassinet underneath a volleyball net 6 inches away from the pool.  Safety first, parents.

There’s the cat that will claw your eyes out if you come within a foot of his food:

 And yes, more boobies:

Of course none of this compares to the awkwardness that is reading ‘The Owl and the Pussycat’ to your child while simultaneously not laughing, even though it almost caused my head to pop off my neck and go rolling around the living room floor looking for a different children’s book that didn’t have inadvertent sexual innuendo.

But at least it didn’t have boobies.