oren is not a book worm so much as a book tosser. each morning, first thing–the sun hasn’t even winked any light into our house yet though it is after 7–he makes a bee-line for the toy-box in the corner of our dining room. he stops, extends an arm and places one pudgy hand against edge near the gaping opening that is already spitting a mouthful of toys out onto the floor. one leg raises and haphazardly slaps the sole of a foot down as an anchor. the other hand goes up, the other leg and foot until he is half-standing, tuckus jutting out a bit. then he starts his work. reaching up into the middle shelf where lay the board books: Miss Spider’s ABC, Dr. Suess’ I’ve Got A Wocket in my Pocket, The Owl and the Pussycat, Brown Bear, The Very Hungry Catepillar, Etc. first one is deliberately tossed on the floor. he has an agenda: no, no, Dr. Suess’ ABC must not hit the floor before Guess How Much I Love You. are you out of your mind. sometimes he can’t reach one book, so oren places a knee on the edge of the box to boost himself up. mama pictures him, big head heavy, pitching into the opening and becoming one with the toys, so says, “no climbing, oren. no, no.” oren slowly turns his head toward mama, and gives her a glare: whatever, mama, and puts his knee there again. but back to the book tossing already. the big truck board book that really is a big book, 6 inches square, usually poses a problem. as oren pulls it off the shelf, it takes on a life of its own, sweeping several other books off with it, hitting oren in the face or the chest or the arm, or all of them. oren doesn’t really like that. screaming and crying and one arm flailing ensues as if to swipe these crazy, out of control books into submission: take that! and that! and that! ahh, the life of a book tosser.

Posted on January 19th, 2007