SaBloBoMo Uno
I had planned to post on the subject of my kids, their diets, their dietary restrictions, their excrement, and the faces they make while eating and or defecating. That was the plan. Since I am not actually involved in any of those tasks I haven't the data required to produce the piece. The research appears to be difficult. Maybe I will post instead on the Canucks and whether this is the year they win the Hopman Cup. (Probably not.)
Last night E and I read "Olivia Forms a Band" for bedtime. Olivia, as you likely know, is a pig. I have heard Mo compare E to this famous pig before... sadly, the child has my nose.
A word on this literary heroine. I enjoy this series of books (especially the first one, where she found the ark of the covenant) and so does E. It turns out these are books which sell well. Many people enjoy Olivia. The titular character is a fun little pig. I daresay Olivia may be one of those products which melds quality of product and quantity of sales. The author does not pander to the audience, the books are pleasant for adult and child alike, and the images are sparse but interesting. Clearly I am a fan.
On Christmas I had a bit of a set-to with a relative, who will go unnamed (Mo's mom), who upon learning we purchased an "Olivia" book for each of E's friends stated "Olivia is so mediocre." That statement was a match to my fart. I began a rigourous defence of my fair porcine figure which raised the dander of her accuser. All thoughts of entering a blissful turkey coma were set aside as the, er, "debate" continued without resolution. I was a wee bit angry. It was enough to lead me to convert to some non-Christmas-celebrating sect until I remember I am not denominated.
Tonight, while wallowing in mediocrity, the following occurred.
Me: (reading) But you can't have fireworks without a fireworks band!" Olivia explained.
E: No. A marching band.
Me: That's right, a marching band...
E: I am Olivia. I am a pig... you are a pig. Mommy's a pig, A is a pig, Barry's a pig too.
Me: I am a pig.
E: I am Olivia... I am not Olivia, I am LIKE Olivia.
At this point, I abandoned the "Gee, this is sure cute and fun and shit" mindset for the "Holy fuck, did my kid just use a simile? Where is that on the development charts? That was a comparison... (dumbfuck parent thoughts continuing until the universe reasserts itself...)"
E: I'm a PIG.
PMO
Did you know it is SABLOBOMO? Post about books all month? We're in!... just in time for me have to share the blog whole hog (snort!) with p-man. Phew. I know he's up to this. Thanks Sassy! And if you want to catch up on our earlier booktalks check out this link. -- Ed. (aka mowo)
Last night E and I read "Olivia Forms a Band" for bedtime. Olivia, as you likely know, is a pig. I have heard Mo compare E to this famous pig before... sadly, the child has my nose.
A word on this literary heroine. I enjoy this series of books (especially the first one, where she found the ark of the covenant) and so does E. It turns out these are books which sell well. Many people enjoy Olivia. The titular character is a fun little pig. I daresay Olivia may be one of those products which melds quality of product and quantity of sales. The author does not pander to the audience, the books are pleasant for adult and child alike, and the images are sparse but interesting. Clearly I am a fan.
On Christmas I had a bit of a set-to with a relative, who will go unnamed (Mo's mom), who upon learning we purchased an "Olivia" book for each of E's friends stated "Olivia is so mediocre." That statement was a match to my fart. I began a rigourous defence of my fair porcine figure which raised the dander of her accuser. All thoughts of entering a blissful turkey coma were set aside as the, er, "debate" continued without resolution. I was a wee bit angry. It was enough to lead me to convert to some non-Christmas-celebrating sect until I remember I am not denominated.
Tonight, while wallowing in mediocrity, the following occurred.
Me: (reading) But you can't have fireworks without a fireworks band!" Olivia explained.
E: No. A marching band.
Me: That's right, a marching band...
E: I am Olivia. I am a pig... you are a pig. Mommy's a pig, A is a pig, Barry's a pig too.
Me: I am a pig.
E: I am Olivia... I am not Olivia, I am LIKE Olivia.
At this point, I abandoned the "Gee, this is sure cute and fun and shit" mindset for the "Holy fuck, did my kid just use a simile? Where is that on the development charts? That was a comparison... (dumbfuck parent thoughts continuing until the universe reasserts itself...)"
E: I'm a PIG.
PMO
Did you know it is SABLOBOMO? Post about books all month? We're in!... just in time for me have to share the blog whole hog (snort!) with p-man. Phew. I know he's up to this. Thanks Sassy! And if you want to catch up on our earlier booktalks check out this link. -- Ed. (aka mowo)
posted by p-man at 8:04 p.m.
1 Comments:
Every Christmas our daughter has a book club book we give all the kids we know. This year it was a toss up between Sector 7 and Olivia forms a Band. In deference to the children of p-man former garage band mates we went with the latter. I stand firm : > behind our decision.
My Mother bought our daughter a truly hideous Golden Book called Kitty's New Doll.. I look forward to your post on that honey.
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