One of the more dorkish things I will discuss at great, great lengths is children's literature. In another life, I was a librarian at your elementary school. Not the quiet mousy one who wore glasses and cardigans covered in cat hair and knew German, more likely the fat one who talked two octaves too loud, even though it was a library, and liked to rant about censorship. And ate Hostess products out of kids Snorks lunchboxes when their heads were turned. I'd be that one.
Recently, I have become lazy what with the rampant test-bunny procreating, and I found myself GIVING A TOY (farm animals on a hay ride, it rolled) to a one-year old on Saturday. This will not do. This is not my stee. I give READS, it is my THING. It's my boring baby shower-thing and my birthday gift-thing and my Look, I've Come Visitin-thing, until you fat little babies reach your high school years, where I will then give you money and not tell on you when you sneak out n break curfew with the kid with the weird haircut and acne. We've got years, though, because the oldest out of all kid-ness in my life is only 5. We've got a decade at least.
Childrens book council
Australian blog must-reads
(specific suggestions: I always buy this one, because it's pretty, and this one, because it's fun to read. Anything that involves sound effects, I'm in.) S. mentions this, her favorite, which I have yet to read but is now a must-buy, title alone.
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from the littlest tall little bro:
I’m not quite sure why I did it, but I picked up Ricky Nelson’s greatest hits. Travelin’ Man is certainly one of my faves. You can’t forget Mary Lou though. It’s so catchy. It’s hard to get “Hello Mary Lou, goodbye heart” out of my head... I know.
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Feeling old, what with the Ricky talk and the kids talk and the fact that I had a beer last night for the first time in weeks, so there is no PIAB drunken shenans to report? Me too. May i suggest a cure in the form of "trains to brazil," and half-price cow meat at Cowboy Cafe tonight. Always works for me. Happy spring; happy Tuesday.