This morning before church the kids were sitting around the ottoman, which GG1 had covered with a blanket to serve as a table. GG2 had placed the couch cushions around it and the kids were eating their hot dogs off the ottoman. They were all having a fabulous time, because hot dogs for breakfast are quite grand indeed. GG1 was reading to them out of a vintage book entitled Nicolau's Prize. My mother-in-law had dug it out of a box in her spare room and brought it, along with many other vintage books, to GG1. Normally, I don't even scan the books my MIL brings since they are mostly Happy Hollisters and goodness knows there's nothing the least bit scary or questionable in those books. Well, I clearly should have scanned ol' Nicolau because I heard these words come out of GG1's mouth:
"And then he plunged the harpoon into the side of the great whale."
"What on earth are you reading?" I asked.
She showed me the book and told me it was about a village that made their living by hunting whales. I was a bit shocked, given the current climate surrounding whale hunting, but figured the book was vintage and perhaps appropriate for her age. She continued to read aloud to her brother and sisters, brightly detailing the whale hunt and subsequent dragging of the beast back to the harbor. I did, however, blanch a bit after the following conversation:
"Cut up me hot dog, pwease," MOS said as he pushed his hot dog and plate towards GG1. She laid the book down, grasped the and fork and (butter) knife, and began slicing.
"This sure does feel just like sawing whale blubber," she remarked in a matter-of-fact manner.
And even GH had to admit that perhaps Nicolau's Prize might not be the best choice for second grade literature.
The end.
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