Horseradish

Lemony Snicket is one popular guy in my house lately. My kids have been moving through and giggling at his Series of Unfortunate Events for the last month or so. On a recent library run, they picked up a book of his sayings, wit, and wisdom entitled Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid. It would make a good coffee table book if tweens had coffee tables in their bedrooms.

One of my favorite lines from the book is:

If writers wrote as carelessly as some people talk, then adhasdh asdglascuyt[bn[pasdlgkhasdfasdf.

I love this one as well because it seems to agree with a long held suspicion of mine about royalty (well, the only royalty I ever had contact with):

One of the world's most popular entertainments is a deck of cards which contains thirteen each of four suits, highlighted by kings, queens, and jacks, who are possibly the queen's younger, more attractive boyfriends.

Come to think of it, I believe I will move the library's copy of Horseradish to my living room coffee table for awhile.

We Are Not Responsible For The "Sleeper" Part

In the last few weeks I've been reading about how the animated kids' movie How To Train Your Dragon is turning into a real sleeper hit, gaining momentum and box office draws over time. Not to be all "I was into that band before anyone ever heard of them," but I did take my kids to see How To Train Your Dragon the first week it opened. Therefore, I am only responsible for the hit description, not the sleeper bit. We were inspired to see the film after reading several of the books in Cressida Cowell's How To Train Your Dragon series. Our favorite, by the way, is How To Be A Pirate. In our post-film discussion, held while grocery shopping, all three of my children found it impossible to say which was better, the book or the film adaptation. That allowed me to explain the "comparing apples and oranges" analogy. The plot of the book is quite different than that of the film. The main character is still Hiccup, the scrawny but plucky son of Stoick the Vast, leader of a band of Vikings. Please allow me to mention that Stoick is voiced by Gerard Butler in the film and somehow his Scottish burr is just as handsome as his Scottish face. It wouldn't be a punishment to have to share a box of Lorna Doones with him if you know what I'm saying. Back on point, there are new characters introduced in the film, and the 3D effects are quite good. That brings me to one advantage of the book. I didn't spend half our time reading the book pausing to wipe popcorn butter of 3D glasses. Anyway, if you haven't experienced them yet, I recommend How To Train Your Dragon, both the book and film. Once you've enjoyed one version, check out the other because both are appealing to kids and nothing is revealed in one the spoils the other. There is something in each for both boys and girls from about ages six to twelve.

Another Thing I Am Too Old For

My precious bibliophile daughter turned ten this past week. Ten! I can hardly believe it. She had a pajama party here at the Book Bench house with a bunch of lovely but high spirited girls on Friday night. I am still tired. Her friends know her well and several gave her books and gift cards to the bookstore. We were in the aisles of our local Borders spending one of those cards by noon on Saturday. With a fistful of coupons, she was able to do some damage to their stock. Currently, Hayden is reading three books, Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos, Mary Poppins Comes Back, and The Magician's Elephant. She is also reading a book in school with her class. I don't know how she keeps the plot lines straight. I can't even remember where I put my book down half the time. It's good to be young!

Cultural Exchange

Two of my children will read a book or try an activity because I suggest it. My youngest child, on the other hand, is more likely to avoid something because I have suggested it. In terms of getting him to read certain books, I have resorted to reverse psychological warfare, you know, suggesting that a book might be too difficult or scary for him. He is beginning to see through that though.

Luckily, this seven year old free thinker of mine is influenced by his friends. I understand that may be a problem later in life when cigarettes and graffiti or the like are in vogue with his peers, but right now it is working to my advantage. He just came off a The Adventures of Tin Tin bender. Do you know who Tin Tin is? I did not; he came highly recommended by a fellow first grader from the Czech Republic, or as my son likes to call it, The Czech. Apparently, Tin Tin is a Belgian reporter and hero of a comic strip that first appeared in European newspapers in the late 1920s. My son loves his adventures, and is even picking up some French phrases from the books he reads. Who ever could have predicted that? I am pleased to report that it has not been an uneven exchange. My son introduced his friend to The Boxcar Children series, another unlikely hit for seven year old boys if you ask me, but as I made clear already, my seven year old is not asking me for suggestions.

Travel Prep

The Book Bench family has a trip to Europe planned for later this spring. We are preparing feverishly. Mostly that consists of hoping for the Icelandic volcano to behave and reading guidebooks. A little advice to parents out there: Fodor's and Let's Go guides are great as are the Rick Steeves travel guides and anything with "Kids" in the title. I would not recommend allowing your eleven year old son to check just any old guidebook from the travel section of your public library. If he checks one out published by MTV Books (you read that right), he might be able to tell you how many grams of marijuana you can carry without being hassled by local police and how to ask where to buy condoms in French. This will result in your having to explain to him what a condom is, not the most fun conversation imaginable.

My daughter is taking a much more enjoyable approach to travel prep. She is hoarding candy in case she doesn't like the food in Europe and she is reading novels set in London and Paris. Currently she is reading and loving Siobhan Dowd's The London Eye Mystery.

Musical Gifts

I risk sounding like Sue Sylvester when she claimed that Madonna's "True Blue" album was released on her sixth birthday, but here goes. I remember only one present from the 1984 combined celebration of my birthday and eighth grade graduation. My brother Sean gave it to me. It was Madonna's debut album on cassette. I played the bejesus out of that tape. I still have it in fact. Perfection. Fox gave me a gift tonight with the Madonna episode of "Glee." It was genius, fun and thrilling. True, this has absolutely nothing to do with books. I haven't even read those English Roses picture books penned by Madonna, but I plan to listen to everything she ever sang again in the coming days. Every finger and toe I've got is now crossed for a Springsteen episode. Can you imagine?

Love is...

Remember the "Love Is..." cartoons from the 1970s? In case you don't, Homer Simpson's description might ring a bell. According to Homer, they're "about two naked eight year olds who are married." I loved them back in the day with their Kewpie doll bodies and pithy definitions of love. "Love is... taking one day at a time." "Love is... turning his head."

I've got a new definition of love. My nine year old daughter checked out a Judy Moody and Stink chapter book from the library for my seven year old son. She loved that series when she was in first and second grade and was excited to share the experience with him. A few days later I saw him reading it with a resigned look about him. I asked if he liked it and he dropped his voice to a whisper and said, "It's horrible, but I don't want to hurt Hayden's feelings." That is love, my friends! Anyone can wear an ugly shirt or tie, spritz on stinky perfume or use an unwanted appliance that was given as a gift, but it takes someone special to read a book he does not like all the way through. I am so impressed with my son's selfless act of love I feel like letting him go pick out one of books he loves about superheroes or farts. Loving behavior needs to be rewarded after all. Let me tell you, sitting through him reading those is an act of love as well.

One more note about those sappy comics. John Hodgeman once stated on The Daily Show "Love is... a quasimental illness prompting the bizarre sexualization of genital-free infants into a daily cartoon strip." That leads me to my last definition of what love is. It is my husband staying up later than he wants to allow me to watch The Daily Show in bed all the way to the closing credits just so I can giggle about stuff like that the next day.