If there is one type if thing that is consistently cluttering up my car, the living room, the couches, the kitchen table, the island, the bedroom floors and the beds, it's a book, or more like many books. It's exasperating.
Chase is (finally) onto books that are large and take several days to read, so he's now in the world of keeping track of his one active book.
But the girls, oh my. They take armloads of books to the car while I'm busy potty-ing their young brother or grabbing my purse. When we get home from wherever we went, they're usually helping get whatever we bought in the door, and no one, including me, remembers to go back out and collect the mounds of books. Until we get in the next time, of course, tripping over books and books and books.
Once a week, the girls' room is declared a disaster area. There'll be some toys out, but it's 85% books. Nearly every book has been pulled off the shelves, and they've read every one. Yes, I could teach them to put each one back, every time they're finished, but you know what? Especially in the case of Riley, I'm okay with her making a pile, and rolling through it, reading and reading, and truth be told, most of the books taken out are by her. At the rate she's reading, I'd rather not interrupt her. On the day that we clean up books each week, and by "we" I mean "they," the girls have learned to sort by size, orient them the right way, and get them nicely back on the shelves. In the meantime, I can live with the mess of books. In fact, I'll consider a blessing for the moment.
But let's get my point. My mother already knows this about me, but here it is, out in the open. I don't usually mind what they pick up to read, and for the most part, what's in our house and available to kids is appropriate. But...
I can't stand Junie B. Jones.
I forget exactly where we got all the books from, in fact, come to think of it, maybe it was my Mom who had picked them up somewhere, and maybe that's why I felt the need to tell her that I couldn't stand Junie B. But other than that, our main sources of books are hand-me-downs from people with older kids or yardsales. And somehow we ended up with a shit-ton of Junie B. Jones. Indy and Chase had started reading them (well underneath their reading level, but new books are new blood in this house) long before I cracked one open to have a look. The first few pages were amusing, and then, I just couldn't handle it. I closed it and looked at the front cover. It seemed like it should be just another innocent children's book. If it's written in the perspective of a 5 year old, then one can assume it's generally intended for that age group, yes?
The first thing that is blatant in these books is that Junie talks like an under-educated 3 year old, the kind that comes from a family where the adults basically ignore the kids and so the kids never learn how to speak properly. We, in this house, can't even bring ourselves to read it as its written. No way no how are we treating this like just another kids' book.
Second, Junie is an asshole. She is rude, she yells considerably too much, and she obviously hasn't ever been taught by anyone to hold her opinion, let alone wait her turn, not interrupt, or use someone's name correctly. I am failing, wholeheartedly, to understand why ANYONE, parent or teacher, would let a child read this. If I met Junie out in public, say at a playground, and she started barking at my kids, well, she and I would be having a conversation, that's for sure.
So that's it. Me Vs. Junie B. I think she sucks, I'm appalled that the publisher ever published one book, let alone an entire series. 55 million copies sold of a series based on a childish misbehaved asshole kid? I'm not the only one who feels this way, there are a whole lot of other intelligent-sounding people who voice their opinions on Junie in articles and blogs.
In our deep cleaning efforts here at home, we keep finding one or two stowaway Junie books, and they go immediately into a trash bag for the thrift store, although I do wonder if I have a social responsibility to make sure they don't get passed on to another kid, ever...
Goodbye and Good Riddance and stay out of my house, Junie B!!

















