Et tu, Ethan?
So Ethan has started "Battle of the Books," whatever that is, and after dinner last night he was sitting at the bar, telling us about it, and leafing through his first book.
Ethan. I'm already on chapter 21!
Me. Fantastic!
Ethan. They're really short chapters.
Me. That's okay. What's it about?
Ethan. It's about this girl that was raised by dolphins.
Me. (head snaps up - I freeze in the middle of loading the dishwasher) What?!
Nolan. (Hearing the same thing that I heard) He said RAISED. Raised.
Me. Oh, heck, no. (grabs the book)
Ethan. Daddy, why does Mommy hate dolphins so much?
Nolan. It's a long story, son.
Carrie. (mutters) Not so much long as x- rated.
****
Sure enough, it was The Music of Dolphins, by Karen Hesse. What the crap kind of sick-o writes a book about that?! An award-winning sick-o, evidently. A critically acclaimed sick-o. You can read it online, evidently, here. Harumph.
Maybe I should just write a book about something that I hate, and I'll be a published author. Bunnies, owls, squirrels... heck, lets face it, nearly all woodland creatures. Or my terror of being buried alive (Nolan has strict orders to have me cremated), or Wal-Mart on a Friday afternoon, or the school parking lot (where I may or may not have played 'chicken' with someone this morning), or a month solid of children's birthday parties....
Or maybe, I could find a way to lump all those in the SAME book. *shudders*
Wow.
The crazy leaked out all over the place this morning, huh?
Carry on, f-list.
Ethan. I'm already on chapter 21!
Me. Fantastic!
Ethan. They're really short chapters.
Me. That's okay. What's it about?
Ethan. It's about this girl that was raised by dolphins.
Me. (head snaps up - I freeze in the middle of loading the dishwasher) What?!
Nolan. (Hearing the same thing that I heard) He said RAISED. Raised.
Me. Oh, heck, no. (grabs the book)
Ethan. Daddy, why does Mommy hate dolphins so much?
Nolan. It's a long story, son.
Carrie. (mutters) Not so much long as x- rated.
****
Sure enough, it was The Music of Dolphins, by Karen Hesse. What the crap kind of sick-o writes a book about that?! An award-winning sick-o, evidently. A critically acclaimed sick-o. You can read it online, evidently, here. Harumph.
Maybe I should just write a book about something that I hate, and I'll be a published author. Bunnies, owls, squirrels... heck, lets face it, nearly all woodland creatures. Or my terror of being buried alive (Nolan has strict orders to have me cremated), or Wal-Mart on a Friday afternoon, or the school parking lot (where I may or may not have played 'chicken' with someone this morning), or a month solid of children's birthday parties....
Or maybe, I could find a way to lump all those in the SAME book. *shudders*
Wow.
The crazy leaked out all over the place this morning, huh?
Carry on, f-list.