When I got home from A Bad Moms Christmas, my boyfriend asked me what made the moms so bad. “THEY WERE FINE,” I said, in all caps, because I was mad. “THEY’RE JUST WOMEN TRYING TO LIVE. AND ANOTHER THING…” He nodded, because he gets it. He didn’t go with me to A Bad Moms Christmas because he was at home putting our daughter to bed while I was at a movie by myself on a Monday night, because most human parents enjoy time away from their children—even if that time is mostly spent being confused about why the Bad Moms movies are in any way subversive.
So, yeah. There’s a lot to unpack here.