Beatrix Potter, be damned!
Or so says my toddler.
Last week a friend lent us all her (quite old) copies of Beatrix Potter stories. My father read The Tale of Peter Rabbit to him and I forgot to ask how that went, but I read The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle to him a couple nights ago for bedtime stories. His eyes glazed over, and I have to say I was excited for the sleep-inducing effects of outdated language (thank you, "presently,..." and "handkins" wrapped up in a "pinny"). I was pretty sure that would be the end of Beatrix Potter for at least a while until Luca asked me to read The Tale of Benjamin Bunny yesterday which went over okay, actually. And then he requested The Tale of Two Bad Mice for bedtime stories last night.
As we sat down with him facing me on my lap, he pulled the book out of my hands and said, "No!"
"No?" I asked. "But I thought you wanted to read this."
He turned the book over to the description on the back and pointed as if reading along, "It says, 'This book is bad!'"
I about died trying to keep a straight face as he repeated emphatically, "This is a Very. Bad. Book. That's what it says. Very. Bad. Book," with his little finger pointing out the words.
And then I lost it and laughed for a solid two minutes.
Last week a friend lent us all her (quite old) copies of Beatrix Potter stories. My father read The Tale of Peter Rabbit to him and I forgot to ask how that went, but I read The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle to him a couple nights ago for bedtime stories. His eyes glazed over, and I have to say I was excited for the sleep-inducing effects of outdated language (thank you, "presently,..." and "handkins" wrapped up in a "pinny"). I was pretty sure that would be the end of Beatrix Potter for at least a while until Luca asked me to read The Tale of Benjamin Bunny yesterday which went over okay, actually. And then he requested The Tale of Two Bad Mice for bedtime stories last night.
As we sat down with him facing me on my lap, he pulled the book out of my hands and said, "No!"
"No?" I asked. "But I thought you wanted to read this."
He turned the book over to the description on the back and pointed as if reading along, "It says, 'This book is bad!'"
I about died trying to keep a straight face as he repeated emphatically, "This is a Very. Bad. Book. That's what it says. Very. Bad. Book," with his little finger pointing out the words.
And then I lost it and laughed for a solid two minutes.