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Judy Blume

Are You There G-d? It’s Me, Alexander

Last week when I was in the desert with the kids I took Alexander to the book store. My husband and I both want the kids to love to read, so we’ve flooded them with everything from comic books to hardcovers. We don’t care what they read, we just want them to enjoy it. Unfortunately, Alexander has been negative about book stores lately. As we pulled up in front of the store he moaned, “Barnes & Noble, I hate Barnes & Noble”.

I told my son I wouldn’t buy him a new watch unless he found a book to read, and then I set him loose. Testing me, he asked for a bundle of Judy Blume books. Five of them in all, it’s the Fudge Series. He expected me to say no because it was five books. I said yes, we bought them all.

Alexander zipped through the first book in about a day. It was Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, he loved it. It’s about a boy, and his family along with his younger brother named Fudge.

Today Alexander was deeply involved with the second book Otherwise Known As Sheila The Great. This book, in addition to having a girl’s name in the title, sports a pink cover. When my beloved husband came home from work today he got a glimpse at the book, his son and he promptly sent Alexander out of the room and whisper-yelled at me.

You’re familiar with the whisper-yell. You scrunch your face up like you’re really angry and you yell at your spouse in a whisper so the kids can’t hear. Some of what what whisper-yelled at me tonight is:

You’re trying to turn him into a girl. Again (I snorted)

He’s going to get beat up. (I giggled)

That’s a book for girls. (I laughed like I was living in a comedy club)

I tried to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. My standard reply is:

You’re the sexiest neanderthal I know.

Then I called Alexander into the room so he could enjoy his book a little more. Kids know whisper-talking is usually about them, so he asked what Daddy and I were talking about.

I told Alexander about the time that I was nine and sent Judy Blume a letter telling her that I wanted to be just like her. About six weeks later she replied to me, and everything about her note was pleasing, from the pastel stationery to her loopy girlish writing.

My husband’s eyes grew larger and he was gnashing his teeth. Finally he couldn’t hold it in any more.

So blog about it. See if I care. Ask your readers and I know they’ll agree with me. This isn’t for boys.

Uh, either are Mommy Blogs, but more than half of y’all are men.

Lastworditis. I have a bad case of it, I know.