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When Your Kids Don’t Love Your Childhood Classics
When Narnia flops and Judy Blume bombs
In my mind sits a set of Muppet Show bookends with the five+ star books of my childhood.
A Wrinkle in Time, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Island of the Blue Dolphins, The Westing Game, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
Fixed entities between Kermit and Fozzie Bear, to be picked up and perused at any time.
Although the list no doubt dates me, I considered these books perennial favorites and did not see why at least some of them wouldn’t make the shortlist for my children.
But like most best-laid plans — particularly with kids — they just laid there, limpid, frustratingly unfulfilled.
There was a promising start. My firstborn was a reader. I tried Narnia but it didn’t take. There was some EL Konigsburg checked out of the school library. One summer I got him to do The Westing Game with me for a buddy read and he was perfectly agreeable when I hollered Wasn’t that fantastic?
