Seuss. Doctor Seuss

March 2, 2007 - Today was the Read Across America celebration where we encourage literacy in children reading works of Dr. Seuss aloud to them. In schools all over the United States, parents are asked to perform as readers for a few minutes in the classroom this morning. And do you know which handsome, charismatic, intelligent, charming, popular, well-spoken gentleman came to the local elementary school to read a Dr. Seuss children's classic to some 20 second-graders?

I'll give you a clue: he's good with children, and writes articles like these as a satisfying hobby. Can you guess who it is?

The correct answer is, "Bond. James Bond."
But I was there, too.

My particular assignment, as I chose to accept it, was to go to Room 6 and amuse the little ones with my own rendition of a classic Dr. Seuss tale (don't fret, I'll reveal the title later). I chose a book with just one or two sentences per page, because my target audience was of pre-kindergarten age. That, plus I get kind of lazy on Fridays, so it naturally worked out. It also helped that I know the classroom teacher, Miss G., so she already knows and trusts my kid-audience handling skills (which is to say, I once gave her a cheesecake. You do that once to anyone, and you're friends for life!).

So I showed up bright and early to the classroom, only to find out some other guy was assigned there. I graciously bowed out, because (1) I had been invited to read at my son's classroom as well, and (2) the other guy was larger than me, and wearing authentic-looking army fatigues. You don't want to get anyone cranky if there's a chance they've seen any combat recently.

I eventually ended up in my own son's classroom, who was delighted to have me there (Note to Son: Wait until high school!). I became a bit concerned if the material was now age-appropriate. So I believe the words, "Oh, lighten up" were of particular usefulness at the moment. Leaving worry and self-consciousness at the door (but not my breath mints), I powered through. The children were regaled by my reading of (here comes the title), that widely-read Dr. Seuss classic, you know it, you love it: Hollywood Wives! No, I'm kidding, it was The Tibetan Book of the Dead. I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Those books are far too long (they don't even have any pictures) and the themes are too mature...better wait until they reach third grade.
Seriously, though, it was Ten Apples Up On Top, as read by yours truly, complete with commentary and audience participation. I had to do it like that: the previous reader did such a moving performance of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas that I would look like a total goober if I even tried to compete with that.

Here's a partial, play-by-play account of how it went:

Me: Hi, Kids! Does anybody here know me?
Kid: I do! Hi, Dad!
Me: Hi, Son.
....
(several pages later)

Me: "Now seven apples up on top!" How many of you here are seven years old?
(All of them raise their hands)

Me: Look, kids! The dog is balancing seven apples on his head! Who here has a dog?
(All of them raise their hands)

Me: Whose dog can balance apples on his head --while jumping rope?
(All of them raise their hands)

Me: Can any of you balance ten apples on your head?
Another Kid: I can do twenty!
Me: Whoa!
(I later learned that her name is Martha. And her last name is du Soleil) (of the California du Soleil's.)

Near the end of the book is a thrilling chase scene, involving umbrellas, seagulls, and bears with tennis rackets. I won't reveal the ending if you've not read it yet; I might ruin it for you. But I will tell you this much: the kids helped me by yelling, "Ka-Boom!!!" so loud that I didn't expect to nearly fall off my chair as much as I did. You can say I literally had a blast.

Today's experience leaves us with these words of wisdom: To properly instill a love of reading and promote literacy in our children through our existing educational system, you must give out free donuts. Preferrably danishes, and lots of them, the kind big enough to be mistaken for fruit-topped pancakes. Do this often enough for parents, and we will gladly do anything you want for the next few minutes. And mark my words: I like the jelly-filled kind.

There really is a moral to this story, but I may have left it in the other classroom.