I'm sorry. I liked it.

As much as I hate to admit it...I enjoyed Baby Mama. I did. Was it because the surrogate mother reminded me of the trailer parks of Oklahoma, where my sister and I were forbidden to go because otherwise we would hang out with the 'bad influences' of Cathy and Amy, who provoked us into making prank phone calls and toilet papering neighbors, then, years later, became gothic wiccan meth-labbers while my sister and I moved on to greater things, like her high school hobby of making out with her boyfriend at the amusement park and smoking cigarettes behind my parents' backs while I joined the robotics team and played Spades for the pulse-pounding thrill of nailing a ten-for-two? Or did I enjoy the movie because I'm a sucker for Tina Fey? Or maybe it was because I will never tire of happy endings in predictable chick flicks? Please, someone. Tell me why I'm so weak.