Barack and Baseball

We are leaving tomorrow for a visit to DC and then to western Virginia to ride the Creeper Trail. I am trying to pack lightly for all three of us, but don't want to completely toss aside the normal routines for a week. So, we will be bringing one sleep-toy and some books with us to continue Isaac's bedtime rituals.

I asked Isaac to choose the sleep-toy and books he wanted to pack for our trip today. Surprisingly Froggy made the cut and Blackie Bear will be left at home. But this blog is about books and not my son's current favorite stuffy, so here is a list of books that Isaac chose to bring along (he was limited to five).

Oh, David! by David Shannon
The Okay Book by Todd Parr
The Pop-up Commotion in the Ocean by Giles Andreae
Casey at the Bat illustrated by Christopher Bing
Marvel Adventures: Hulk, Misunderstood Monster

Since we will be gone for a week, and neither Matt nor I want to read these particular books umpteen times over the next few days, I added to the list.

Spiderman: Worst Enemies by Catherine Saunders
Amazing Tigers by Sarah Thomson
Duck On a Bike by David Shannon
Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! by Mo Willems
Curious George Goes Camping by Margret and HA Rey
The Pigeon Finds a Hot Dog! by Mo Willems

These books should keep Isaac occupied for a little while in the car and provide some variety at bedtime. I considered bringing the Barack Obama biography that he has since we are going to DC, but wanted to conserve space. We haven't left yet, though, so it still might make it in. Isaac is very excited about seeing where the President lives.

When Isaac first brought his choices to me, he had The Memory Coat by Elvira Woodruff in the stack, rather than Casey at the Bat. He has pulled this one off the shelf a couple of times and I always encourage him to pick a different book. It is one that I had purchased as part of an author visit, so it has been added to his collection even though it is not an appropriate book for his age. I think he chooses it because the cover is a similar color to Casey at the Bat. It is not that I do not want to read the book to him. I do, when he is older. I just know that it is not a story he will understand and appreciate, or be able to sit through, right now. Today I asked him to look inside the book to make sure he wanted to bring it. He did, and after looking at a couple of pages of soft watercolors and lots of text, he closed it and said "No, I don't like this." Upstairs he went, and back down he came, this time carrying Casey at the Bat. A much more appropriate, if not more welcome, choice. By now I can almost recite the entire poem, we have read it so many times. After this week, I might be saying it in my sleep.

"The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day; the score stood 4 to 2 with but one inning more to play. And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, a sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game. . . "