Why the hell is this stuff so good? Whence the comfort? Why is/was it that I didn't even mind reading it over and over and over and over?
When I had to read/sing Wheels on the Bus over and over I wanted to throw the book out the window. Yet, when I come to that excellent last page of the seminal Machines at Work, "More work tomorrow!" it just makes me feel oddly comforted. As if it was the voice of some calm person, patiently discussing the ways of the world with me. And the ways of the world were predictable, and that was good.
And yes, my kids are long past the age of reading these, and soon even my nephews will leave his heavily-bordered illustrations behind. But I will always love them.
More work tomorrow.
What they're reading now.
Child No. 1: Dragon Song
Child No. 2: If You Lived in the Time of the Northwest Indians
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