a-one and a-two ...

Saturday was a good reading day. I killed some grown-up books (Tamar and Nature Girl) and some kidlit (The Wish List and Clash of the Sky Galleons), worked down my New Yorker backlog, and generally enjoyed life. I also served as a Cloth Diaper Expert at Tiny Tots, wherein I diapered a stuffed tiger in front of several very pregnant couples, and took home a $40(!!) gift certificate, which is about half a Thanksgiving/Festivus dress for Ainsley. That shit is PRICEY, yo.

But oh, do I love to evangelize about the diapers. I totally tried to downplay my crunchiness, so as not to scare off the fencesitters,  but I let it slip that we travelled for long periods with the diapers, and just shoved the stinkies into a huge duffel bag and dropped them off at TT when we came back ... Even the Tiny Tots Representative, who you'd think would be on my side, was all "Yeah. That's not usual." My point was that they are convenient! Excuse me for being Hard Core!

Anyway. Tamar gets shoved into some YA categories, because there is a teen protagonist in one part of the book, but

I think Mal Peet is wr ongly pigeonholed as a writer for teens. This is a brutal, scary, tragic, amazing read. You know how your grandpa won't talk about what he did in World War II? This is why. I can't think of any teenagers I know who would "get" this, but I kinda want to give it to everyone I see. One side effect of being a parent (for me) has been enormously excessive empathy for parents separated from their children (or somehow unable to protect their children). Thus all Holocaust literature (fiction or non-fiction) has become unbelievably hard for me to read.  But this was worth it.

The sub-genre of Afterlife Lit (Lovely Bones, Five People You Meet in Heaven, etc.) is better done in kidslit than in adult, in my opinion. The Wish List was a funny example (pity poor Saint Peter, trying to tally souls' sins, when new sins like "mime artist" and "boy band member" keep being added!) but Elsewhere is what I hope really happens after we go.

Now, here's the book that made my weekend:

I

I just love this series so much. I love its universe. I love how unsparing it is, how it absolutely refuses to condescend to kids, how nasty-brutish-and-short everyone's lives are, how exciting their adventures are! This series is the first time I've been awakened to the allure of the life of a pirate. Seriously, what Johnny Depp couldn't do for me, this book does.Ahhhh.

Lastly, Carl Hiaasen. Why has everything he written not been made into a movie? They read like the most hysterical

visual comedies I can imagine. The blurbs compare him to Evelyn Waugh, but I think Tom Sharpe is a better comparison, in the utter ridiculousness of the situations and the sheer comic genius of the writing. I admit it, I'm a Carl Hiaasen Fan. I hope he's got a big ol' ranch in South Florida with alligators around it.

Enough about the damn books. Halloween was unendingly cute this year (last year we spent it in the emergency room, so it was nice to actually HAVE Halloween). Ainsley is big enough to get the point of everything, but small enough that The Candy is not a permanent motivator, and completely ambivalent about costumes. Behold:

"I am a dog. Mollie is a skunk. What is going on here? We trusted you people.  We need to break out."

It's like American Gothic Baby.

And yet, behold:

"It's Mommy's Birthday! I'm a Princess! I love my crown! Everyone must wear a crown!