I love books. I grew up in a house where reading wasn't just encouraged, it was as much a part of life as breathing and eating. Okay, maybe even better than eating. And so you can understand that I was very excited when Teacher Toni handed me Maia's book orders and apologized for her tardiness in handing these out and could I please return them by the next morning? Asking me to pick out books? By the next morning? What torture.
I drove home with generous pressure on the accelerator, raced through the door, prepared lunch for the kids in record time, forgot to feed myself, and sat down to peruse through my ─I mean Maia's─ book order, telling myself that I really ought to behave and have some restraint. I have a similar conversation with myself when faced with chocolate.
And so you can imagine my disappointment when, after leafing through the hundred or so titles, I had only jotted down three. First of all, it doesn't help that these flyers are designed to look like a Fanny's Fabric sale's flyer. But I could have overlooked that. Books piled on a heap of dog poop would still be books. Yet there was absolutely nothing delectable about these particular books; almost everything is based on a cartoon character, comes with a Hello Kitty trinket, or has a Barbie Doll on the cover. I ended up picking out a couple of Eric Carle's board books and one about a cow who waits by the mailbox and scares the living daylights of out the mailman. So much for the opportunity to expand our children's collection of literature!
So there it is: I'm a confirmed book snob. My children will have to make do with my careful, anti-Hello Kitty, anti-Barbie, anti-commercialist selection, as well as my beloved collection of books that has travelled with me since childhood and finally found a place up on my daughter's bookshelf. And I guess I'll just have to invest in some fantastically dark chocolate for my own consolation.
If you want to read more on this topic, Mothering just published this: Put the Book Back in Book Clubs
12 years ago
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