Since having a kid a little more than two years ago, I've been served several dozen helpings of green eggs and ham, fed countless cookies to innumerable mice, and said goodnight to gorillas and the moon and scores of lesser-known characters.
Then there's the truck books: if I didn't know an excavator from a backhoe before, I sure do now. And what with the fog of middle age setting in, I've relearned all my colors and how to count backwards from 10.
Yep, my son loves to read. It's a blessing, of course, but there are nights when after a few readings, I'm ready to join all those monkeys jumping on the bed.
My inner child started getting rebellious. I thought maybe the world ought to know what I think about when I read this stuff. Hey, it's a blog, okay? I mean, if there can be a gazillion-jillion blogs about politics -- ugh -- there can be one dedicated to children's lit'rahtoor, thank you very much.
Don't worry, I won't be trashing your childhood favorites. I trust that the classics have already found a home on your shelves and in your kids' hearts. This blog is for new titles, and I'm lucky to wrangle a few review copies from friends every now and again.
I don't pretend this blog will be complete, just fun to browse. Maybe there's a few undiscovered gems in the slush pile, maybe there's just the same ol' same ol'. Then again, my son has no fewer than five books on fire engines and loves them all. When it comes to kiddie lit, maybe there can never be too much of a good thing.