We are big on books here at the Glinda household, and we try to read with our son every chance we can get.
About seven months ago, the Munchkin was in an extremely all-encompassing pirate phase. Everything had to be pirate, from his toys, to his movies, to his clothes.
In an effort to tie into this, my husband went to the library and got an adapted version of “Treasure Island.” I didn’t know this until I saw him walking towards the Munchkin’s room at bedtime with the book in his hand.
“Don’t you think he’s a little young for that book?” I asked him.
“Aw, no way! It’s a classic! You can never go wrong with a classic!” was the reply.
I tried to dissuade him from starting the book, because even though it’s been a while since I last came into literary contact with the Black Spot, I felt that the overall tone of the book was too mature. Even an adapted version. But he insisted, and into the room he went to begin one of the best pirate books ever written, to be sure.
A couple of nights later, my husband and I were talking and he brought up the book.
“You were right” he said. “I think the book just kind of went over his head a little.” My husband leaned toward me, “And there was this part where one of the pirates was killed, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to come right out and say it, it just seemed a little too much for a four year old to handle.”
“So what did you do?” I asked. “Did you tell him that the pirate went to sleep for a really long time or something?”
“No.” he responded. “Worse. I had to make it up on the spot.”
“Well what else could you have said?”
“I told him the pirate ran away and was never seen again.”
Ahhh, don’t they say that parenthood is fraught with many teaching moments?
Well, my husband took his opportunity. He taught the Munchkin that apparently, being a coward is better than being dead.
*10 worthless points for the first person to guess the movie in which this line was uttered. Er, sung, really.