"It's like they saw our lives and put it right up on screen!"
Abbie cycles through her books, constantly picking a new favorite. One week she’ll designate “My Little Color Book” as her favorite, and every time she toddles into the kitchen whining in misery because I’m ignoring her for a minute to make her dinner, she will hold her color book. Her intention is to stop me from doing something as frivolous and selfish as working in the kitchen, and start entertaining her.
Fortunately I memorize her favorite books within hours of picking favorites. That’s a byproduct of her tendency to sit and read her favorite book in every conceivable style in one sitting. She can read a book normal, backwards, upside-down, as fast as possible, stopping and staring at a page forever, skipping the end, skipping the beginning, skipping page 2, skipping page 4, skipping pages 2 and 4, or any combination thereof. With this kind of repetition, memorization is easy. It’s also essential when she uses the “as fast as possible” style. Memorization allows me to simultaneously fill the vegetable steamer and recite her book while she turns the pages accordingly. Most CEOs would kill to achieve that level of multi-tasking proficiency. In fact, some CEO may be on trial for such a murder right now for all I know.
Last week her favorite book was “Dinosaur Roar.” This is a thrilling portrayal of the world of dinosaurs and how some are big, some are tiny. It lists opposites in rhyming groups of four sentence fragments, such as “Dinosaur roar, dinosaur squeak, dinosaur fierce, dinosaur meek. Dinosaur well, dinosaur sick, dinosaur disestablishmentarianistic, dinosaur antidisestablishmentarianistic.” The text is somewhat maddening since almost every other word is “dinosaur.” It breaks the monotony on the last couple pages, but before then 19 of the first 44 words are “dinosaur.” By the time she burns through the book in “as fast as possible” mode for a few rounds, “dinosaur” starts slurring worse and worse until I just give up and omit the word, just saying the opposite word. The Cubs used a similar strategy this year when the games just game too fast and omitted the effort against everyone but the Cardinals.
Accompanying the insightful text are pictures of fairly realistic dinosaurs juxtaposed with vaguely human faces; it’s like a Disney animator who worked on Aladdin, not the good movie but one of the bad sequels or possibly even the animated series, lost his job and is now putting food on his table by drawing children’s books with Disnified dinosaurs.
I never expected Abbie to like the dinosaur book. I found it at a garage sale and picked it up for the twins. I know boys love dinosaurs because they’re big and scary and probably capable of beating up big sisters. I always assumed that girls had little interest in dinosaurs because they’re big lizards, and what girl likes lizards? It turns out my wife likes lizards, or at least did. She liked dinosaurs so much when she was little that she wanted to be a paleontologist. So if Abbie is anything like her mother she will have a strong interest in science and she’ll be a snotty know-it-all child.
This is a new week, though, which means her new favorite book is “Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?” Instead of documenting the lives of dinosaurs with opposites, I now illustrate the wonderful world of sounds we inhabit with moos and buzzes while steaming her vegetables. “Dinosaur Roar” is relegated to her room. She’ll sit and read it through it several times with me if I hold it for her, but she usually doesn’t choose it on her own. Maybe someday it will cycle back to her favorite book. That would be right after “My Little Color Book” takes another turn at the top I guess.
Fortunately I memorize her favorite books within hours of picking favorites. That’s a byproduct of her tendency to sit and read her favorite book in every conceivable style in one sitting. She can read a book normal, backwards, upside-down, as fast as possible, stopping and staring at a page forever, skipping the end, skipping the beginning, skipping page 2, skipping page 4, skipping pages 2 and 4, or any combination thereof. With this kind of repetition, memorization is easy. It’s also essential when she uses the “as fast as possible” style. Memorization allows me to simultaneously fill the vegetable steamer and recite her book while she turns the pages accordingly. Most CEOs would kill to achieve that level of multi-tasking proficiency. In fact, some CEO may be on trial for such a murder right now for all I know.
Last week her favorite book was “Dinosaur Roar.” This is a thrilling portrayal of the world of dinosaurs and how some are big, some are tiny. It lists opposites in rhyming groups of four sentence fragments, such as “Dinosaur roar, dinosaur squeak, dinosaur fierce, dinosaur meek. Dinosaur well, dinosaur sick, dinosaur disestablishmentarianistic, dinosaur antidisestablishmentarianistic.” The text is somewhat maddening since almost every other word is “dinosaur.” It breaks the monotony on the last couple pages, but before then 19 of the first 44 words are “dinosaur.” By the time she burns through the book in “as fast as possible” mode for a few rounds, “dinosaur” starts slurring worse and worse until I just give up and omit the word, just saying the opposite word. The Cubs used a similar strategy this year when the games just game too fast and omitted the effort against everyone but the Cardinals.
Accompanying the insightful text are pictures of fairly realistic dinosaurs juxtaposed with vaguely human faces; it’s like a Disney animator who worked on Aladdin, not the good movie but one of the bad sequels or possibly even the animated series, lost his job and is now putting food on his table by drawing children’s books with Disnified dinosaurs.
I never expected Abbie to like the dinosaur book. I found it at a garage sale and picked it up for the twins. I know boys love dinosaurs because they’re big and scary and probably capable of beating up big sisters. I always assumed that girls had little interest in dinosaurs because they’re big lizards, and what girl likes lizards? It turns out my wife likes lizards, or at least did. She liked dinosaurs so much when she was little that she wanted to be a paleontologist. So if Abbie is anything like her mother she will have a strong interest in science and she’ll be a snotty know-it-all child.
This is a new week, though, which means her new favorite book is “Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?” Instead of documenting the lives of dinosaurs with opposites, I now illustrate the wonderful world of sounds we inhabit with moos and buzzes while steaming her vegetables. “Dinosaur Roar” is relegated to her room. She’ll sit and read it through it several times with me if I hold it for her, but she usually doesn’t choose it on her own. Maybe someday it will cycle back to her favorite book. That would be right after “My Little Color Book” takes another turn at the top I guess.
posted by Matt at
9:55 PM
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