Book: Where the Wild Things Are

(Thank you to The Troggs – the quintessential “Wild Things” band –
How perfect is the band name!)

Wild Things
You’ve even got wings
You make everything spooky
Wild Things

Wild Things, I don’t believe in you
But I’m not too sure
I’ll check my closet now (and under the bed too)
And turn the lights on

Wild Things
You made Max king of kings
You make everything kinda scary
Wild Things

Wild Things
C’mon, c’mon, Wild Things
Read it, Read it
Wild Things!

Note: When Nick was born we got 4 copies of Where the Wild Things Are (plus 5 copies of Good Night Moon, 3 copies of The Giving Tree and zero copies of the Bhagavad Gita.)

Since it was so highly recommended, I read it to Nick when he was 1 1/2…as a bedtime story.

My bad. He didn’t sleep for a week.

I’d save Maurice Sendak‘s book for when they’re a little older. I haven’t read it since then (and I can hear some monster grumblings from the top shelf) because I really, really value my sleep. But probably by the end of the year – when he’s closer to 3 – we’ll party hardy in the forest with Max and his pals again.

Bonus: Apparently Sendak is a friend of Dorothy. Hurray!


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