Baby Lit. 101

How many times is it humanly possible to read Green Eggs and Ham in one day? The Impling wants to know. And while we're at it, recitations of The Runaway Bunny, Hop On Pop, any of the Boynton books that happen to be lying around, and of course, the inevitable schmaltz that is Good Night Moon, would be most welcome.

I didn't realize how creative I could become in sheer desperation. I dramatize. I create complex characters and voices. I vary the emphasis on words. I am Sam. I am Sam. I am Sam. I am master thespian. At night, my dreams are peppered with The Owl and the Pussycat (what IS a runcible spoon anyway?), Dr. Seuss's ABC. One Fish Two Fish. And don't even get me started on the music. That is a post unto itself.

So, these books. In particular, to start, these Margaret Wise Brown books. Seriously, they are some creepy ass stories. Let's start with Good Night Moon. Did you ever notice...that old lady, whispering hush...isn't in the first illustrations. She just...materializes. Like some kind of horrible ghost-hag-bunny-woman with beady little eyes. What's up with that?

And that picture on the wall behind her? A rabbit, fishing for another rabbit? What's that fisher rabbit going to do? Peel back skin to expose tasty bunny? A la tater tot? What is this? Let's teach our wee ones that cannabalism is just a fluffy happy fact of life? Of course, as I became more well read in the realm of kiddie books, I eventually recognized this to be an illustration from The Runaway Bunny. Does this make it any better? I think not.

Okay. Now. The Runaway Bunny. Am I the only person who had visions of the big fat animated monster-mom from The Wall floating through her mind? Not that I'm a huge fan of the Wall or anything. Well, okay, the music rocks. But the whole woman-is-evil-and-whorish-and-shrewish-and-suffocating thing I could have lived without. But then, it wouldn't have been The Wall now, would it.

But I majorly digress.

Let's take it one phrase at a time. Some of the comments the mother makes are straight out of your worst (and weirdest) nightmares. "I will FISH for you." "I will find you" "I will BLOW you"! Excuse me? Paging Dr. Freud. RUN little Bunny. Run like the wind. Or your mother will BLOW you. Not where you want to go. Where she wants you to go. Yes, yes, I know all these wonderful, cozy, luvy duvy kids books were written in a more "innocent" time. But come on. There is no innocence here. These writers were either sick in the head, or playing some sort of cosmic evil joke on us. Or both.

And I quote. Pat the Bunny. "Paul can put her finger through Mommy's ring. Can YOU put your finger through Mommy's ring?"

I rest my case.