IMPOSSIBLE

Recently, before my great neph Boomer toodled off to daycare, he asked me to read a book to him. His selection was a well-worn Dr. Seuss number called Hop on Pop. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly War and Peace or even a classic Grimm’s fairy tale. The words in it were limited to mostly two and three-letter rhyming pairs, but the only other choice he had was Fancy Nancy‘s Favorite Fancy Words, and, even at four-years-old, Boomer knows that book is too ooh-la-la girlie for his masculine taste. So, Hop on Pop it was.

Well, the very first page got Boomer all in a little snit because the illustration had a puppy flipping up into the air and off the page.

“Up, pup. Pup is up,” I began reading.

“Dogs can’t fly!” he laughingly protested.

“Well, it’s just make believe,” I responded.

“But dogs can’t fly!” he continued to insist. “Look, Aunt Nancy. Dogs can’t fly!”

Dr. Seuss would have flipped out of his grave, had he been trying to please Boomer’s literal interpretation. He had a comment for just about every page.

“Pup on cup,” I read.

“Dogs can’t sit on cups!

“Pup under cup,” I continued.

“Dogs can’t get under cups!”

This went on and on. But that’s okay. At least I was relieved he wasn’t blurting out that kid-favorite, 3-letter word that all exasperated adults like me dread hearing….

“Why?”

(Love you, Boomer!)