My hopes of finding the perfect post-retirement hobby were
beginning to falter when I stumbled upon a class for writing children's
stories.
Perfect.
Here is something I can do under any oversized beach umbrella,
or perched near a blazing fire in a ski chalet, or strapped to a gleaming,
wooden deck chair on a Transatlantic crossing.
Kids are so easy! You
take a few words that rhyme, stick them on a page with a picture of a kitten
chasing a ball, or a policeman chasing a monkey, or a butcher-knife-wielding
farmer's wife chasing a mouse - the main objective here is to captivate the
screaming portion of an undeveloped brain long enough to help it go unconscious
for a whole night.
Consider this prime example:
B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O,
and BINGO was his name, oh!
I'm positive the person who invented that also introduced the
concept of royalties.
But that's a discussion for later - when I start writing
children's songs in my spare
time. I carry a notepad where I record
every word I'll need during that phase of my life. So far, I have: Click, Clack, Pat, Clap, Flap, Slap, and Poo.
I'll be a zillionaire.
I decided to focus on more honest themes when I registered for this class. Why should kids wait until Junior High to
learn about creepy behavior? Home is
definitely where those lessons should start.
But after perusing a list of popular children's books, I
realized many other authors had clearly beat me to it. I also finally
figured out why today's adults are so screwed up.
Brief Anatomy Refresher:
A newborn baby has all the physical functionality of a new potato, and
is equipped with all the brainpower of a bowl of oatmeal. (Anatomy Refreshers always make me so hungry!)
The Potato Parents, whose Oatmeal Heads have long since
crusted over, cross their fingers for 18 years and do the exact wrong things
that their Potato Parents did to them.
Potato Babies are told:
This is a poisonous plant leaf. This is a piece of lettuce. REMEMBER WHICH IS WHICH!
Also: These are your toys. These are your pets. ONE GROUP SCRATCHES AND BITES!
And the classic: We think you're valuable. We will protect you with our lives. GET ON THAT SCHOOL BUS!
Those allegedly precious Potato Babies are flown to Disneyland
inside hulking missiles of wafer-thin metal.
This is the happiest place on Earth. Every single person here is smiling. HERE'S HOPING YOU CAN ADAPT TO WHEREVER YOU
END UP!
But the biggest confusion sets in with the arrival of books. Kids are still getting a handle on their
world when up pops a passive-aggressive, near-sighted fox in green corduroy
knickers.
Some parents introduce the same crazy stories they heard as
Potato Babies, practically guaranteeing they'll have one thing in common with
their own children: a fear of everything.
Oh, my, look what
happened. This small, innocent child was
beaten for making a classic business misstep involving the family's donkey, so
he climbed a vine outside his bedroom, and met a giant who kills kids. EAT YOUR JOLLY GREEN VEGETABLES!
Other parents shun the books they were forced to read,
looking for a New Age way of dealing with their toddlers' Oatmeal Heads.
Melissa has three dads,
two-and-a-half mothers, an uncle with leprosy, and a child on the way. CLEAN THAT SELF-ESTEEM-FOSTERING HAMSTER CAGE
NOW!
I started reading to my daughter Abi before she was born
(she learned the three-book rule real
early). Luckily, her Oatmeal Head was
the steel-cut variety so she weathered those early weirdo character
introductions fairly well.
She carried books around the way other kids carry blankies. There were books lining her crib rails,
stuffed in the car seat, and floating (or not) in the bathtub. When I skipped lines while reading that third
book, she busted me every single time.
(But most titles contained the words "I Love You" so even at my
sleep-deprived, grouchypants worst, I had that
base covered.)
My sister Debby read constantly to her son Joshua (a.k.a.
"The Cutest Nephew In The World.")
Josh's favorite book for quite
a while was "Bedknobs and Broomsticks." He roamed the house in his diaper, looking to
snag an easy target for the seven billionth reading. It was usually Grandma. She never figured out where the rest of us
hid.
He read that thing until the pages fell out. One time he handed Debby the cover. She started reciting it from heart, which led
to an impromptu performance art piece - everyone yelling the story in unison from
our hiding places all over the house.
He must have loved the thought of regular boys and girls magically
visiting invisible islands from the safety of their beds.
So maybe it is
better to save the reality stuff for later.
I'm betting those Aesop brothers had seriously effed-up childhoods. (Oh, was there only one Aesop? I'm probably thinking of the Cohens.)
Abi loved a book about Muffin
Mouse, who laced up her tennis shoes every morning because she preferred
walking to riding. (Yes. The Importance of Exercise.)
And she loved a book called Possum Magic about a fuzzy little guy who disappears bit-by-bit and
his Grandma does everything in her power to get him back. (Hmmm.
Unconditional Love.)
The Paper Bag Princess
was about a girl who rescues a prince from a dragon - then he tells her she's
got messy hair and dirt on her face. She
tells him to get lost. (Yup. Don't Settle for a Jerk.) It was Abi's favorite.
No, wait. It was my favorite. I read that thing until the pages fell out....
HEY!
Maybe I'll write
books for parents - disguised as
books for kids. Parents will see where
things got messed up, and kids won't have to repeat the same awful patterns!
I shall get these parents to read my books by reconstituting
their Inner Oatmeal.
I'll write about a Potato Baby who refuses to let his growing
brain dry up and crack, but instead fills it with exotic fruits, a variety of
nuts, and thick, sweet cream.
The first title in my 87-installment series will be Talking Louder Than Foxes: How One Man Overcame a Crippling Fear of
Gardening.
(Come on now - you
know you shouldn't text and drive - so next week I'll show you how to make Mala
Beads! Ancient Hindu prayers are more
helpful in heavy traffic any day. LOL.)
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