"wum-pa-pum-pum"

After the song portion of the evening ritual is over comes the Naming of the Animals, in which I am to be the response part of the Animal Call and Response

"I wead the boog."
"Ok, honey."

She opens the books, seemingly at random, and points.
"Cacadile"
"Crocodile!"
"Hippawampus"
"Hippopatamus!"
"Dat's a goat."
"Goat!"
"Jiwaff"
"Giraffe!"
"Munkee"
"Monkey!"
"Ehfant!"
"Elephant!"

Then, as we have several books with elephants in them, we point out all those elephants. If this sounds like it takes a great deal of time, it does. I'd estimate we spend on average an hour a night between us doing various bedtime rituals, easing our parental guilt at sentencing her to daycare.

Aside: Not that she cares, of course. She loves daycare. Sometimes on the weekends she gets bored with us and asks to be taken to daycare.

Tonight, having finally clued in to the trend....Hey, she really likes elephants!...I remembered a really old copy of Babar that I'd put on the shelf a while back. It was one of a few that I had kept for years just on the off chance I'd get married and have a kid one day. Why I thought Babar might be out of print by then I don't remember. I have about 20 books in that same category, among them Little Black Sambo. Dunno what I'll do if she asks me to read that one day. Probably read it to her. Not reading it will feel like surrendering to the people who think niggardly is a racist term.

Anyway, Babar. Babar was another shock. I hadn't looked at in 30-odd years. How bad could it be, it's a kids' book, right? A kid's book for a tougher time, maybe, when children were dropping like flies from polio after working 8 hours down at the mill, and when one on't cross beams went owt askew on treadle, well, they fixed it themselves or they weren't paid. Reading Jazz Baby and Wemberly Worried doesn't adequately prepare a man for Babar. Babar is twisted. It's the Pulp Fiction of children's literature. Here's a quick jaunt through the highlights.

Page 1 - Babar is born.. His mother sings him to sleep each night. Baby Elephant Walk, I would think.
Page 4 - Babar's mother is shot, with what appears to be an Army and Navy double barreled .500 elephant gun. The bloody lazy illustrator failed to indicate the external hammers, so I am not positive on this point.
Page 5 - Babar's mother dies, and her murderer comes after Babar, presumably with visions of ivory billiard balls dancing in his head.
Page 11 - Babar finds an elderly lady who gives him money because she is sexually attracted to elephants and can read their minds. The book doesn't state this explicitly, but it's there. It's all about the subtext, people.
Page 12 - Babar rides the elevator until he is directed to a male prostitute.
Page 13 - Babar dresses up like a giant leprechaun with a spats fetish.
Page 14 - Babar gets his picture taken by Adolf Hitler.
Page 17 - Babar, in a thong, does tai chi with his elderly sugar mamma.
Page 19 - "The Old Lady has given him the car. She gives him whatever he wants."
Page 30 - The King of the Elephants overdoses on shrooms.
Page 36 - Babar agrees to become King of the Elephants, but only if they let him marry his cousin.
Page 37 - In his first act as King, Babar makes the elephant who nominated him for King his secretary of defense. This is why Judge Scalia expects to be Chief Justice one day soon.
Page 39 - Babar forces a camel to buy a wedding gown.
Page 41 - Babar gets married, goes into musth and tramples the other members of the wedding party! Wait, no, he just gets married. Damn.
Pages 42 and 43 - Mixed species dance party! This is obviously a clever commentary on the Jim Crow laws of the 1930's. Once again, subtext. Don't try this at home unless you're an English major, folks.