Mine have had several, different books at different stages. One they’ve always liked is “Bears in the Night,” a Berenstain Bears book. Silly and repetitive, with few words but extremely expressive pictures, it’s always hoot. (Pun intended–if you’ve read the book.)
My daughter likes me to read “Love You Forever,” which, no matter how many times I read it, still makes me tear up.
The current favorite with my two-year-old is one that was also the favorite of his older brother, and has been read and reread so many times that I have it completely memorized.
And it’s not a short book. I mean, it’s not long, per se, but it’s not teeny, either.
But it’s sort of my own fault for memorizing it. It’s cute, with a fun cadence and rhyme scheme that makes it catchy and easy to remember, and it’s a cute story with a little bit of actual plot and character. The artwork is delightful; clearly, the artist had a great time in the details.
It’s a story that I actually don’t mind reading over and over (to a point). The other day I think I read it literally eight or nine times. See above: Totally memorized. But I don’t even mind, because it’s delightful.
What, you ask, is this gem of literary greatness?
I’m glad you asked. It’s called “Counting Crocodiles,” by Judy Sierra.
And the reason it’s the focus of my blog post today is because I’ve already read it half a dozen times today, and it’s stuck in my head, and really the only thing to do in such a situation is to share the insanity.
“But the monkey was suspicious,
And the bananas looked delicious,
So she climbed atop her tree and cried,
‘I wonder are there more
Crocodiles in the Sea, or Monkeys on the Shore?'”