I’m beginning to wonder about this child of mine.*
She likes, as I’ve mentioned, playing with books, and tonight she gathered up some grown-up books to read to herself.
One of them is called The Happiest Toddler on the Block.
The other was The Duchess of Malfi.
Let me tell you that The Duchess of Malfi is not written by Dr. Seuss.**
It’s a nasty little play, and Margaret found it depressing.
So I read her We’re Going on a Bear Hunt and put her to bed. I only just realized that that may have been upsetting, since I call her “Bear.” Oh dear.
*I’m also beginning to wonder about me, because who leaves unsuitable books lying around?
**I’m now sort of morbidly fascinated by the thought of a Dr. Seuss version, but that’s probably best left alone.
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