Who Needs A Caldecott Winner When You Can Have Guinea Pig Nativity?

Um, Why? Just... why?

Um, Why? Just… why?

There are two things outside of Costco that I am a sucker for: (1) book fairs, (2) Willie Nelson, and (3) math.

Guess which one of these lured me in the other day at Sadie’s school?  (Oh, don’t I wish that the Red-Headed Stranger and Trigger (his guitar) were installed in the lobby, drowning out the sound of Simon having an epic fit because he wasn’t allowed to have ice cream for breakfast.)

If you guessed, a book fair, then you too have probably succumbed to the charms of the elementary school’s pleas to buy books to support the children.  (Who, exactly, is NOT willing to buy a book for the sake of children’s education?)

I made several bush league mistakes at the book fair.  Chiefly, I told my children they could pick out any one book they wanted.  “Then, we can keep it forever?” They asked because I have a bad habit of throwing their stuff away when they are at school.  “Yes, forever.”

Simon picked out a Star Wars chapter book for $1.99.  (You know sometimes you think to yourself are my kids going to turn out OK?, and then there are moments when your 2-year old picks out a book that is both (1) cool and (2) cheap and you know, deep in your bones, that you are raising a bona fide badass because he has good taste and he’s cheap.)

The subsequent fall, it was hard.  It was precipitous.

Yes, I had to rush Sadie along.  Yes, I failed to give her any real guidance, though I did point out the beautiful Newberry winners with their shiny gold circles on them.  She didn’t care.  She was looking so moony over this weird guinea pig book that I could have offered her a trip to the Magic Kingdom on a boat made of bubblegum and she woulda given me the finger.

So, now, instead of snuggling up to read Amelia Bedelia or The Box Car Children, I am stuck reading about little vermin acting out the birth of Jesus.  Sadie insists that they are just “bunnies that come in weird shapes,” and I’m all “No, honey, they are PIGS.  Little ratty pigs.”

The whole thing is borderline offensive.  I am afraid that book may just have to “accidentally” get lost in the holiday shuffle.  And next time there’s a book fair at school, I’m sneaking in the back entrance.

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