Wednesday for Kids XL -- Got a Hair Dryer?

Don't tell my daughter:

I've already opened and read her Christmas present.  

(I couldn't help it.)

Wednesday's for Kids [30] -- ORIGAMI

Watching the new POTTERMORE announcement this morning on Facebook, not because of it's similarity to pop-up books, which are plenty cool, too, but because, well ... uhm.  I don't know.  Whatever.  It reminded me of origami this time.  Must be the owl at the end of the ad.  Anyway, origami is cool for kids, and for grownups--even, and perhaps especially, for the lazy ones who just want to look, rather than do.

For kids:

I had this book when I
was a kid; I have no idea
where it is now.

For grownups:

I REALLY want this book.  Discover this
on your own.  Really.  Do it.  Amazing.

Here is Robert Lang (click his name for his website and surf around the spectacular compositions), one of the two foremost experts in origami--not, originally anyway, because of his artist proclivities, but because of his work's scientific/mathematic necessities--talks about it below.

All with a single sheet, un-cut sheet of paper:

Wednesday's [and McSwy's] for Kids XXIX -- FOR LITERATINI

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here

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Gotta love it when someone does all the work for you.  And just in time!  I can hardly believe how a graveyard shift screws up  my body clock, my creative energy, and my drive to do pretty much anything but sleep (of which there's well nigh unto zero).  Cheers!

Wednesday's for Kids XXVIII -- THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN UNDERPANTS, by Dav Pilkey

Do you doubt it?  Maybe it's one of those you-had-to-be-there kind of moments, like you can't really get it unless you're reading it on the family room floor with two little kids who think that all it takes to make something hilarious is to add the words fart, poop, or underwear.  And that's not even what makes this book work!  It is, quite simply, a brilliant and absolutely hilarious fantasy-- "modern fairy-tale" --of nearly every grade school kid in the world brought perfectly to paper.

Best friends and fourth graders, George and Harold, are classic class clowns and the bane of their hapless principal, Mr. Krupp.  In desperation the man installs hidden surveillance cameras and finally catches them red-handed pranking the cheerleaders and football team with itching powder and who-knows what else, and he hauls the culprits to his office to deliver sentence.  Instead of suspending them or following other school protocol, however, he opts for revenge and, counting on the little kids' fear of the gigantic football players, threatens to show the team the surveillance footage if they don't do just what he says.  After "four to six" weeks of cleaning the man's house, washing his car, mowing his lawn, and whatever else I don't even remember--feeding him grapes while the other fans him with banana leaves or something--their Hail Mary, a 3-D Hypno-Ring, finally arrives in the mail, and all you-know-what ensues when they take it to his office (called in after failing to show up at his home first thing in the morning to make him breakfast or something) and try it out.

Of course, the 2-dollar ring works exactly as advertised, and Principal Krupp, mystically changed by the power of hypnosis, strips to his tighty-whities, throws a curtain around his shoulders, and defenestrates himself from the school office in the noble names of Peace and Justice and by authority of his terrible new gift, Wedgie Power.  And that's just the beginning!

Now go ahead: tell me this isn't brilliant!

Wednesday's for Kids XXVII -- DINOSAURS

I've learned, recently enough that it's even a little embarrassing to admit, that what I like--Joe the Grownup--has absolutely nothing to do with what kids like.  On the other hand stuff I liked as a kid, whether I'm still into it or not, does--to a degree.  But even then kids 25-30 years ago are not kids today.  (Duh, right?)  Basically what I'm getting at is that I am no authority on kid stuff.  Now this might sound redundant, but, well, basically, kids like what kids like, right?  And it doesn't matter or have anything to do with what mom, dad, teachers, or whoever else may foist on them.  Case in point (though not exactly completely contemporary): The Land Before Time series, which, for some reason, somehow, kids love.  But this is not a movie review.  (And it's bad enough just watching those "movies," let alone dwelling on them long enough to write a review!  Ugh.)

One assertion I believe I can make and with some authority is:

KIDS DIG DINOSAURS

Wedneday's for Kids XXVI -- SEEK and DESTROY (well, except for the DESTROY part)

Today is a day for brevity.

Something for kids and that kids love:

Who doesn't love "Where's Waldo"?

And a write up?  I'll let the Wiki do the work.

'Nough said.

Wednesdays for Kids XXV -- Choose Your Own Adventure

Started in 1975, Choose Your Own Adventure books, plus a riffraff of of imitators (some good--some even as good as better--and some not so good), have since been the launch pad for many a reading career, including mine.  While most of my childhood was spend in the unlikely-for-kids realm of nonfiction, so-called "game books," and a very select few novels, introduced me to fiction and led to the field's general take-over of my literary preferences.  Much like the "cha-ching" stories I told with my friend on sleepless overnights, I, an alleged control freak, along with another--friend and/or author--got to determine the story.  I loved them!

If you've never experienced the satisfyingly meaty pulp of Choose Your Own Adventure books and all their absolutely awesome badness, get yourself straightened out and pick up a set!  Your childhood is still recoverable.

Wednesday's for Kids XXIV -- NIGHTMARES

Mercer Mayer, the mind and pen and brush behind the popular Little Critter series, wrote my son's once-favorite book, There's a Nightmare in My Closet.  Once-favorite I say, because he has since discovered Spiderman and Ironman.  Forget comparisons to Where the Wild Things Are; this book is its own (despite a similarity in artistic sensibility) and, unlike Wild Things (meaning no disrespect, as I believe it a true masterpiece), quite accessible for children, even helpful, as it softens rather than explores the nightly shadows, and for it is more similar to Monsters Inc., if anything.

While my son has moved on in his literary interests from Mayer, he has not, thankfully, cast aside stories and songs and humor about monsters.  I've mentioned Bill Harley before (if you don't know the guy, imagine what would happen if Bill Cosby and Raffi got together and spawned a lyric offspring), whom my family got to see "in concert" (and for free!).  Perfectly bolstered Harley's canny balance of dirty-kid humor and morality/cautionary tales, songs and stories, absurd and thoughtful is his song "Monsters in the Bathroom," which both my kids love, and surely gains some inspiration not only from Harley's childhood but also, likely, from Mercer Mayer's monsters.

(for Bill Harley's "Monsters in the Bathroom," try Grooveshark)

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Wednesday's for Kids XXII -- KIPLING and an "A IS FOR ALPHABET"

Since we're reading a novel by Rudyard Kipling right now (Kim, which, by the way, is surprisingly more difficult than I thought it would be), I figured it not inappropriate, particularly as Kipling was so otherwise skilled at stuff so pointedly for kids, to feature a story from his so well-known Just So Stories.  If you're not familiar with these tales of origin (and Tolkien, by the way, was not the first Briton to invent a mythology, though Kipling's takes place "abroad" rather than in Britain, as Tolkien so intended his tales), they include answers to such life questions as "How Leopard Got His Spots" (the most famous of them, really, as this story is read and modeled to the point of "hackney-fication" by grade- and middle-schoolers across the English-speaking world), "The Beginning of the Armadillos," and "How the Whale Got His Throat."  While these stories are all so just fine, there are two that are perhaps so much more appropriate to the blog, here: "How the First Letter Was Written" and "How the Alphabet Was Made."

the alphabet necklace

All of these stories are brilliant, wonderfully simplistic little tales, and particularly perfect for narration (and so I think more appropriately so through oral retellings, fairytale-style, rather than straight readings) to kids.  Considering "How the Alphabet Was Made," I expect that an ambitious (more accurately read perhaps as "desperate" or "creative," depending) parent would even be able to generate such a discussion with his/her kid[s] and create their own alphabet, illustrations and all, just like the father/daughter duo of the story's Neolithic cave.

My favorite part of this particular story is Kipling's acrostic (sort of) poem (less sort of) and illustration:

ONE of the first things that Tegumai Bopsulai did after Taffy and he had made the Alphabet was to make a magic Alphabet-necklace of all the letters, so that it could be put in the Temple of Tegumai and kept for ever and ever. All the Tribe of Tegumai brought their most precious beads and beautiful things, and Taffy and Tegumai spent five whole years getting the necklace in order. This is a picture of the magic Alphabet-necklace. The string was made of the finest and strongest reindeer-sinew, bound round with thin copper wire.

Beginning at the top, the first bead is an old silver one that belonged to the Head Priest of the Tribe of Tegumai; then came three black mussel-pearls; next is a clay bead (blue and gray); next a nubbly gold bead sent as a present by a tribe who got it from Africa (but it must have been Indian really); the next is a long flat-sided glass bead from Africa (the Tribe of Tegumai took it in a fight); then come two clay beads (white and green), with dots on one, and dots and bands on the other; next are three rather chipped amber beads; then three clay beads (red and white), two with dots, and the big one in the middle with a toothed pattern. Then the letters begin, and between each letter is a little whitish clay bead with the letter repeated small. Here are the letters—

A is scratched an a tooth—an elk-tusk I think.

B is the Sacred Beaver of Tegumai on a bit of old glory.

C is a pearly oyster-shell—inside front.

D must be a sort of mussel shell—outside front.

E is a twist of silver wire.

F is broken, but what remains of it is a bit of stag's horn.

G is painted black on a piece of wood. (The bead after G is a small shell, and not a clay bead. I don't know why they did that.)

H is a kind of a big brown cowie-shell.

I is the inside part of a long shell ground down by hand. (It took Tegumai three months to grind it down.)

J is a fish hook in mother-of-pearl.

L is the broken spear in silver. (K aught to follow J of course, but the necklace was broken once and they mended it wrong.)

K is a thin slice of bone scratched and rubbed in black.

M is on a pale gray shell.

N is a piece of what is called porphyry with a nose scratched on it. (Tegumai spent five months polishing this stone.)

O is a piece of oyster-shell with a hole in the middle.

P and Q are missing. They were lost, a long time ago, in a great war, and the tribe mended the necklace with the dried rattles of a rattlesnake, but no one ever found P and Q. That is how the saying began, 'You must mind your P's. and Q's.'

R is, of course, just a shark's tooth.

S is a little silver snake.

T is the end of a small bone, polished brown and shiny.

U is another piece of oyster-shell.

W is a twisty piece of mother-of-pearl that they found inside a big mother-of-pearl shell, and sawed off with a wire dipped in sand and water. It took Taffy a month and a half to polish it and drill the holes.

X is silver wire joined in the middle with a raw garnet. (Taffy found the garnet.)

Y is the carp's tail in ivory.

Z is a bell-shaped piece of agate marked with Z-shaped stripes. They made the Z-snake out of one of the stripes by picking out the soft stone and rubbing in red sand and bee's-wax. Just in the mouth of the bell you see the clay bead repeating the Z-letter.

These are all the letters.

The next bead is a small round greeny lump of copper ore; the next is a lump of rough turquoise; the next is a rough gold nuggct (what they call water-gold); the next is a melon-shaped clay bead (white with green spots). Then come four flat ivory pieces, with dots on them rather like dominoes; then come three stone beads, very badly worn; then two soft iron beads with rust-holes at the edges (they must have been magic, because they look very common); and last is a very very old African bead, like glass--blue, red, white, black, and yellow. Then comes the loop to slip over the big silver button at the other end, and that is all.

I have copied the necklace very carefully. It weighs one pound seven and a half ounces. The black squiggle behind is only put in to make the beads and things look better.

Wednesday's for Kids XXI -- FIELD TRIPS

Sorry I didn't post this yesterday.  We were on a field trip.

Forget the books for a day.  Take your kids (or yourself) on a field trip.

Yesterday, my family went up to Temple Square in Salt Lake City and spent the better part of the entire day in and out of museums, historical sites, and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints' spectacular gardens.  My kids seemed most "in to" (yes, this is true) the Church's historical museum, and went from display to display eager to hear my wife or me read them the curated descriptions.  My favorite was the tour we got the Conference Center (the largest "single-point" auditorium in the world, with apparently gravity-defying feats of structural engineering), the artworks (paintings, sculptures--all originals) throughout the lobbies and waiting areas, and the rooftop gardens and waterfall (and this aside from the organ and auditorium acoustics, which, unfortunately, were not on demonstration).

As a family, we take field trips quite frequently (and generally less religiously oriented than yesterday, despite, and contrary to, what many may otherwise think as we are indeed Mormons in Utah).  They're great for building family (optimistically) ties and (jadedly) tolerance.  We listen to music and audio books in the car.  We pack picnics.  We walk and giggle and explore.

Not sure where to begin?  Get on your city and state websites and hunt around a bit.  Though I'd be lying if I claimed that all places were created [on the potential-for-field-trip-scale] equal, every place everywhere (and I mean every place everywhere) has stuff to see, visit, and do.  There's no place without a history, or, well, near someplace that is.

Wednesday's for Kids XX -- CASEY AT THE BAT

(www.valomilk.com)

So I sort of flip-flopped-blended the kids stuff and poetry this week, but what the heck.  Both today's and Sunday's are fairytales of sorts and have both been interpreted--loosely--by Disney.  I'm not offering much commentary, but leave the comparison, favorable or not, to you.

Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer
The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

Wednesday's for Kids XIX -- POP-UP BOOKS

Forget 3D or "Real-D" (whatever that means) movies or television, or even stereoscopes (though stereoscopes are, admittedly, really dang cool); instead go for the real thing and get a POP-UP BOOK!  Sure, they over-simplify the classic stories they attempt to retell (at least when they interpret classics like The Jungle Book or Alice in Wonderland (significantly less so, as it so happens, with The Little Prince)), but they offer engaging introductions to these stories, and whether re-tellings or original creations they are both beautiful and terribly fun.  A word of caution, however: Do not leave them with unsupervised under-fours (or so).

For parents (or anyone else):  While pop-up books are a great window to literature for children, they're also made for and targeted at adults (some favorites or mine, though not "pop-up books" per se, are the books of the Griffin and Sabine series by Nick Bantok, which are absolutely gorgeous and feature letters, envelopes, and postcards removable from their pages and so yet 3D, to a degree, nonetheless).

• The Little Prince, story by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
• The Castaway Pirates, by Ray Marshall
• Alice in Wonderland, story Lewis Carroll; pop-ups by Robert Sabuda
• Flying Machines, by Ib Penick
• The Jungle Book, story by Rudyard Kipling; pop-ups book by Matthew Reinhart

Wednesdays for Kids XVIII

Wednesday's for Kids XVII -- A IS FOR ANYTHING, ESPECIALLY SCARRY

Alphabet books are a dime a dozen--at least if you can find the crappy ones in the remainder bins at the back of your local Barnes and Noble or thrift store.  Sure, there are some really good ones out there, and I don't devalue their ability to assist an otherwise stubborn toddler's interest in learning the alphabet, but why let someone else do what your kids can already do better?  My favorite alphabet book isn't really an alphabet book at all, but a word book, the Best Word Book Ever in fact (whose vain title reminds a little of Eggers' A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, and whose content is, in its own sphere, equally staggeringly genius), by Richard Scarry, which I grew up with, examined weekly and carefully as a kid sitting in church (at least until I outgrew that particular kids' luxury), and attempted multiple times over the years to replicate.  At once the best kids' dictionary ever and just plain flippin' fun to look at.

I recommend, highly, Richard Scarry's Best Word Book Ever, not to mention anything else done by the man.

While I don't--or can't, really--recommend any one particular "A Is For..." alphabet book, at least not one that's published, as I mentioned before and if you're dealing with kids, make your own!  Way more fun, the kids get more out of it, and it's something they'll be proud to show off, hang on their wall, and mail to Grandma and Grandpa.  I'm one of my own, in fact and appropriate for the blog, that will be titled, "A Is for Author."  Geeky?  Geeky.  Yes!  And fun!

Wednesday's for Kids XVI -- THE LITTLE PRINCE

The last time I read The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, was in my high school French class.  I can't say that I particularly appreciated it then; I hated French class, and, if I'm being honest, I hated English class more.  Worse, I considered myself an elite artist at the time--was a bit of a snob, in fact (which self judgment is likely generous) --and snubbed the pathetic attempts at "art" by the self-deprecating author/illustrator.


Thankfully, I've matured a bit since then, in both literary taste and humility.  Over the last two days, I've finally re-read most of it and look forward to finishing it this afternoon.  It is absolutely splendid--fun, light, philosophical, perfect for kids, perfect for adults--well, perfect for adults who "get it."  While not in the least the same book (except for the similarity of a general denouncing of "adults"), if you like the Alice books, you will like The Little Prince.


You can read it in its entirety, illustrations and all, right here.  I highly recommend that you give up an hour or two of your day or night and get just that much more well-read.


Highlights from this fantastic piece of classic literature--quotable quotes and illustrations:

• "Children should always show great forbearance toward grown-up people."
• "When you've finished getting yourself ready in the morning, you must go get the planet ready."
• "One should never listen to the flowers. One should simply look at them and breathe their fragrance."
• "It is truly useful since it is beautiful."
• "'Where are the people?' resumed the little prince at last. 'It's a little lonely in the desert...' / 'It is lonely when you're among people, too,' said the snake."
• "You're beautiful, but you're empty.... No one could die for you."
• "You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed."
• "What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well."

(click to enlarge)

Special thanks to my old high school friend, Veronica, for reminding me of the existence of The Little Prince when she saw the enigmatic picture (current "brick") drawn by my daughter.  I hope I will never be so grown up that I miss the elephant.

Wednesday's for Kids XV -- SEUSSIAN CAPTCHA

Happy Birthday, Good Doctor!

The Fraters Welosi and the Azablu Foush'ni

by Mr. Center with Captcha by Google

Old Zorlag and Jubat funcied in Welosi

wipling aboge’ more zyzafil ungly.

“If only, if only, weren’t Pento so mograble,”

said they, “then the pyrris would steshu inectable!”

But terrible Firlect, a construct of Flaticut

depotied the fraters and mingoed their crion up

a great ougue, with Paccateu the ceileable Azablu,

vesesurping their loger by blisting a proscu!

But Zorlag and Jubat weren’t so easy to blist,

and “Untroff!” they called to more fraters in Brabst,

who came bibling on dancles to speaf all the skarrems

of Pento the Mograble, now depotied to Foushens!

“Shulashu!” pierped Zorlag, the old frater of Jubat.

“For Pento’s old pyrris is grint up in Flaticut!

“Our aboge’ is zyzafil,” said Jubat, “and ungly,

and we can all mingo in ragit, Welosi.”

*  I certainly don't intend to flatter myself or harbor dishonor, because this pathetically pales alongside both the great authors; but this terrible "poem" bears elements (though certainly weakly) both Seussian and Carrollian.  Of course, Carroll never wrote, that I'm aware, in anapests (and Seuss did them clearly much better), and Seuss's inventions, like Carroll's, make sense.  Besides, I had to meet my own challenge.  Regardless, I wish Dr. Seuss a good birthday, wherever he is; his stories have shaped my life!

Wednesday's for Kids XIV -- LATE NIGHT, SNEAKY READING

I have a tendency (unintentional, of course) to exaggerate how young I was when I started to read "chapter books," as they're called.  Regardless of how old I was or wasn't, non-fiction tended to dominate my grade school canon.  Yeah, I was dorky.  I actually read an abridged dictionary for Book It! in 3rd grade--well, A-E or F or so, anyway.  My favorites were a series of fantastically illustrated books by David Macaulay with such terse titles as Cathedral, Castle, Pyramid, and City.  I would read these over and over again, way too late into the night, hiding under the blankets with the flashlight--feet on my pillow, face at the foot, buried deep--and a ready ear tuned to the stairs in case Dad came to check on me.  I don't remember the grades precisely--somewhere between 2nd and 5th, more or less, I'd say--but somewhere around the discovery of Macauley (thanks, Dad), there were also three novels--whoa! fiction!! --that equally captured my imagination, also which I only ever read late at night (unlike the Alice books, which were uniquely day-reading), and all of which remain to this day three of my all-time favorites.  (And two of them are actually pretty darn good!)

1: Call It Courage, by Armstrong Sperry  --  I lost my copy and am eager to buy a new one.  This is the first novel I ever fell in love with. 

2: Invasion of the Brain Sharpeners, by Philip Curtis  --  Admittedly, this isn't a fantastic book by typical, snobby literary standards.  It falls under roughly the same category as The Riddle of the Traveling Skull, which I've been raving about so much lately.  This is pulp fiction (not the movie, for better or worse) for kids.  (This book also maintains a particular hold on me as a teacher.  The book's premise: a teacher bemoans his idiot students and wishes they were sharper; eavesdropping aliens not so far away come to sharpen their brains!)

my personal copy -- a treasure!

3: James and the Giant Peach, by Roald Dahl.  --  Enough said.  (Well, not quite, apparently:)  It's better than Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  Seriously.  And if you've only ever seen the movie, then shame on you!

I can't say this is my personal copy.  Somehow it
accompanied me to college from home and never
made its way back.

Wednesday's for Kids XIII -- FORGOTTEN SEUSS

I think it may actually be impossible to claim yourself a book-lover and yet not like, or at least appreciate (that ever snobby word for those stuffy and shallow enough to attempt to save face amidst the true bibliophiles) Dr. Seuss (his books, I mean; I don't know much about the actual man behind them).  In fact, I would be interested to know if you or someone you know may be one who actually does dislike him--err, his books, I mean (and "dislike" being the mildest, though I'm sure there's someone out there--likely a non-book lover, but perhaps not--who just flat out despises him).  But I have a problem.  My problem is indeed with his books and is two-fold: 1, there are so many of them (which, of course, is also a strength, but without which this next wouldn't happen); and 2, so many of the very best are forgotten because of what pop-culture and bookstores (the latter parcel to the first, of course) does to only a handful.

I have three favorite titles by Seuss.  None of them have I ever seen at a Barnes and Noble.  None have been made into a movie--or at least some massive wide-release travesty (thank Heaven! (though, done right, maybe they wouldn't be so bad)).  Nowhere have I found a student even who's ever heard of more than one.

I am not going to dwell on the stories, metaphors, and characters of each, but simply show their covers, list their titles, and little else.

What do I recommend?  Get the books.  Buy them.  Put them on your shelves, but not in the children's section, but right between, say, Salinger and Tennyson, where they belong.

NUMBER 1: Horton Hatches the Egg, surely forgotten in large part because of the book's big, though nonetheless great (just hackneyed by the evil Pop!), brother, Horton Hears a Who.

NUMBER 2: Scrambled Eggs Super, a long-time favorite of mine, and even before my Dad's renown for his ability to recite the entire thing word-for-word, as well as a now-favorite of my kids.

NUMBER 3: The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins, which is a rare example of a story without rhyme, as well as one of, if not, the longest stories Seuss wrote.

(I don't know what happened to the "500"...)

Each of these books is as rife with character, fun, and real-world application as any of his classics with more mega-media face-time; I argue, however, that these are, perhaps, lucky to be at least partially forgotten, as certainly characters like Horton and the Cat in the Hat have only suffered at the attention of Hollywood's heavy, oh-so-un-holy hand.

Gee Whiz: In searching pictures of the books, I stumbled upon this of the Hebrew translation for Scrambled Eggs Super; how spectacular that they thought to reverse the cover art!

Wednesday's for Kids XII -- Alice in Wonderland

There ain't nothing wrong with a good, purposeful double dip!

While I don't recommend reading this with little kids, the 8- to 10-year range is, I think, the perfect window for formal introduction to Alice.  Another of this book's tremendous gifts to readers is its layering, inherent to many of the best of the books:  while I still get something new from it each time I read and, in my typical way, have a tendency to, if anything, over-analyse, a kid can read or hear this book initially and superficially and still fall completely under its spell ... er, wonder.  This book is not a drug trip.  This book is not a some pedophilic dream (this is the saddest of its interpretations).  This book is, first and ultimately, a book written for children and, believe it or not (read with me and you may see it more clearly), by a child.

If you do have the grand occasion to read this with or to kids, skip the annotated editions.  Get a copy with the original illustrations and no superfluous references.  Sit on a couch with a blanket and snacks.  Nestle in.  Fall in.  Enjoy.

cover, 1898 edition

Wednesday's for Kids XI -- Beverly Cleary is a GENIUS

Read this aloud--with enthusiasm! --to a couple of kids,
and try--just try--not to have a screaming good time.

Enough said.