Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Where the Wild Things Aren’t

Here's a post that's been bouncing around my head for quite sometime. It's about a little girl who was afraid of Wild Things.

You see, a few years ago, when my eldest was about two and a half, I brought Where the Wild Things Are home from the library. I loved it as a kid and I thought she was at the age where she would really enjoy it.

Bedtime rolled around, I showed her the book, and she began to freak out. “What are those things? I don’t like that book. Those are scary. That’s a scary book daddy!” I tried to settle her down and tell her the book was about a brave little boy. She wasn’t buying it. Things escalated and she continued to freak out. Eventually, she demanded that I get in the car and drive the book back to the library. "That book is scaring me - take it out of my room - take it back to the library!" It was so scary she couldn’t even sleep in the same house as the book.

So I went out and put the book in the car, took a quick lap around the block, and came back inside. I like to think I’m a pretty good dad, but I’m not making a special trip to the library at 8:00 just to get Where the Wild Things Are out of the house.

She continued to talk about the “scary book” for quite a few weeks. Anytime I brought books home from the library she said “You didn’t get the scary book, did you? I don’t like that book!” Eventually she forgot about it.

Then, about a year later, someone gave her and my youngest daughter copies of the book. My youngest loved the book. She like the “monsters.” “Daddy – I like the one with the cow face – he’s like a cow. Daddy – you like the bird face one!” Eventually, my eldest warmed to the book and now we read it pretty frequently.

And that seems like the perfect reaction. Afterall, it's a book about helping kids understand their emotions - anger, sadness, and fear. So, without further ado, let the WILD RUMPUS START!

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