Hasbro Can Take Every Dollar I Own For This Adorable Talking Baby Yoda Doll
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Jeeeeeeesus Christ, Hasbro. Did you really have to do us like that? Anything that had Baby Yoda's big brown eyes and understated smile on it already was going to become a license to print money. But to take that cuteness and weaponize it for capitalistic purposes is straight up unfair. Every week when I went on My Mom's Basement with Robbie (download/subscribe/rate 5 stars) to recap the latest Mandalorian episode, I would lose my mind over just how adorable the words the closed captioning person used to describee Baby Yo's cute ass sounds. Every week it was something different yet something extremely cute along the lines of*The Child babbles* or *The Child gently coos*, which turned my heart into a soft pile of bantha poodoo.
To bring all those sounds to life while putting an iced out Mando chain on his neck and then sell it is messed up. You know why? Because I don't think I would have felt the need to have kids if I could have bought a Baby Yoda doll. Forget about years of changing diapers, losing sleep, and saving every extra dollar I have for a college education that will still be unaffordable. I could eliminate all that along with the stress that comes with worrying about the life of a small idiot human that can kill itself at any moment for the low low price of $60.
You know what the best part of this Baby Yoda doll is? He doesn't get older. That's right. I don't have to worry about him telling me he hates my guts as a teenager, becoming a burn out living in my basement, or fucking and making other baby Yodas with a random girl he just met despite them having exactly $0 to their names. Instead he will forever be the cute baby cooing at me that I can shut up for a while by simply removing the batteries. If that's not the perfect child, I don't know what is. If Amazon or any of those new Toys R Us are doing a real life Toys For Tots promotion where you can get a toy if you trade in your tot, I will take two Baby Yo dolls in exchange for two living, breathing Clem kids before the weekend gets here and I am solely responsible for their lives until daycare/school is back on the hook Monday morning.