On Sunday mornings my oldest daughter Megan takes a cooking class. This morning Debbie took her to class while I went to Barnes and Noble with Devon, our youngest. Barnes and Noble is probably Devon’s favorite spot. She loves to pick out the books and have us read to her. A nice father and daughter morning--- UNTIL. . . she picked up Knuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken Identity. When I started reading it seemed like a normal NYCentric kids book. Drawings superimposed of what looked like Park Slope. The plot was pretty simple, girl (Trixie) goes to pre-kindergarden carrying her favorite toy, Knuffle Bunny. That should have set off warning bells, (what kind of parent sends their kid to school with a stuffed animal?), but I read on. It seems another girl has the same bunny. Since Trixie and her bitter rival can’t agree on who has the correct pronunciation of “Knuffle”, they end up fighting and the teacher confiscates both rabbits.
The teacher returns Trixie’s rabbit at the end of the day and she heads to the park, then home and later, to bed. However (and I’m sure you didn’t see this coming), Trixie realizes that “her” bunny has been switched. She comes into her parents’ room screaming “This is not my Bunny!!” Little Trixie demands that her parents IMMEDIATELY call their counterparts and arrange a hostage exchange.
At 2:30 AM.
Now in any civilized part of our planet, said child is, at best ignored, and at worst, well ACS has definite “Views” about that sort of thing nowadays. But in Park Slope Dad gets out of bed and is actually about to phone the other set of parents (AT 2:30 AM) when the phone rings. It’s the other parents calling to get their little princess’s bunny back. I’d say it must be something in the water, but since I used to do NYC DEP’s budget I know I’m drinking the same stuff. And no way in hell am I making that call at 2:30 AM. And I made sure to tell Devon that too.
I’m already on a bit of a rant here, so I don’t want to go overboard here, but who thinks that calling another family in the middle of the night is anything other than an
act of war? Or more accurately, an admission that you never should have reproduced in the first place.
What kind of person writes a book like this with a straight face? Mo Willems, that’s who. And I can’t tell you how disappointed that makes me. I absolutely LOVED Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! Cute illustrations, the bus looked like it was Ralph Kramden’s ride. And when you have to read the same book fifty or sixty times, trust me, it’s nice to actually enjoy what you’re reading. I guess there’s a market for everything and someone has to write books for the “I’m raising a little god/goddess” crowd, but I wish someone else had picked up the gauntlet on that one.
The teacher returns Trixie’s rabbit at the end of the day and she heads to the park, then home and later, to bed. However (and I’m sure you didn’t see this coming), Trixie realizes that “her” bunny has been switched. She comes into her parents’ room screaming “This is not my Bunny!!” Little Trixie demands that her parents IMMEDIATELY call their counterparts and arrange a hostage exchange.
At 2:30 AM.
Now in any civilized part of our planet, said child is, at best ignored, and at worst, well ACS has definite “Views” about that sort of thing nowadays. But in Park Slope Dad gets out of bed and is actually about to phone the other set of parents (AT 2:30 AM) when the phone rings. It’s the other parents calling to get their little princess’s bunny back. I’d say it must be something in the water, but since I used to do NYC DEP’s budget I know I’m drinking the same stuff. And no way in hell am I making that call at 2:30 AM. And I made sure to tell Devon that too.
I’m already on a bit of a rant here, so I don’t want to go overboard here, but who thinks that calling another family in the middle of the night is anything other than an
act of war? Or more accurately, an admission that you never should have reproduced in the first place.
What kind of person writes a book like this with a straight face? Mo Willems, that’s who. And I can’t tell you how disappointed that makes me. I absolutely LOVED Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! Cute illustrations, the bus looked like it was Ralph Kramden’s ride. And when you have to read the same book fifty or sixty times, trust me, it’s nice to actually enjoy what you’re reading. I guess there’s a market for everything and someone has to write books for the “I’m raising a little god/goddess” crowd, but I wish someone else had picked up the gauntlet on that one.
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