Do you really know? I mean, really really? Do you know what you are reading them and how they are hearing what you are reading them?…
I was browsing through the Costco “magazine” (what sadly passes as reading material for me nowadays) in bed when my oldest came to snuggle with sit by me. Not wanting to stop this rare moment, I tried hard to engage him in conversations.
“You like 2012 right?” The DVD is featured in the magazine because it is a shopping catalogue in disguise.
“Oh. That movie is AWESOME!” For my son, things can be easily divided into two groups: Things that are awesome; things that sucks.
I pointed to the DVD for the movie Where the Wild Things Are directed by Spike Jonze (of the Being John Malkovich fame). “Dad said the movie is actually quite good. He saw it on the plane. We should watch it sometimes.” Having two boys five years apart in age, I am constantly searching for movies that will appeal to both of them and are age-appropriate. To be honest, I aim for semi age-appropriate now because the picking is just slimmer than a meth addict on a super model diet. I bet Mr. Monk has watched more PG-13 movies than any other 7-year old in the suburbs.
“Oh. I know what it is about. It is based on the book Where the Wild Things Are…”
Yeah. I was thinking. You and every other person older than three know what this movie is about. Duh.
“It is about this boy who got into trouble. He ran away from home to live with the monsters, and the monsters tried to kill him.”
“What?” I sat up to look at him. “Are you serious? No. Seriously. Is that what you think the book is about?”
“Uh huh. I told you. I have read this book. It was about this boy who went to live with the monsters, then he became homesick. And when he tried to leave, the monsters threatened to kill him. They said, ‘We will eat you up!'” He said, with even more conviction this time.
I laughed, yet at the same time, I was becoming more and more alarmed.
“No, dude. You are just being smartie pants, right? You don’t really think that’s what this book is about, right?”
“I am SERIOUS! That’s really the story! You don’t know anything, mom!”
Mr. Monk walked into the room at this time. I asked (with gnashed teeth) my oldest to not say anything about the book to his younger brother since I really don’t need two traumatized kids on my hand. I asked Mr. Monk whether he knows the story.
“I have the book. I’ll go get it!”
The three of us sat in bed while I read the story out loud. Just like I once did when they were much younger. I remember this book being one of the favorite books for both boys at around the same age.
When we got to the part where Max says goodbye to the Wild Things,
“Oh please don’t go — We’ll eat you up —“
“See? What did I tell you?!” Triumph in his voice now, my oldest moved in for the kill, “And see here? They were threatening to eat him!”
To think that I used to read this book to him before he went to bed. Many many nights.
p.s. No boys were harmed, physically or psychologically, in the making of this blog post.