I had Bryce Eleanor for 6 days, from Thursday night until Wednesday afternoon. It was great fun, and we played and read. The last few days, however, she developed a summer cold and went through the tissues like mad.
It didn't bother her most of the time, and she was cheerful and playful in spite of it.
I'd ordered 3 poetry books by Jack Prelutsky to have on hand for the grandkids. Be Glad Your Nose Is On Your Face is the one I got down for this visit, and we both enjoyed it thoroughly.
Both Prelutsky and B.E. have a thing about spaghetti, so poems that featured spaghetti were favorites.
I like that Prelutsky uses big words frequently; his poems are written for children, but they are certainly not condescending.
Of course, this one says it is perfect for ages 7-11, and B.E. is only three. Nevertheless the charming illustrations and rhymes kept her fascinated whether she understood everything or not.
The marvelous illustrations are by Brandon Dorman and go well with Prelutsky's funny and fanciful words. In 2006, Prelutsky became the nation's first Children's Poet Laureate, a well-deserved honor.
After Amelia and Chris returned from New Hampshire and Boston and picked up their happy daughter (bringing at least a half dozen new books), I settled in to a quiet house again.
But by Thursday night, I realized that I'd contracted B.E.'s cold. She was so sweet and cheerful. I was a miserable, grumpy, whining, self-pitying mess. By Saturday, I couldn't even read to comfort myself. Just whine, take meds, and try to sleep. This morning, I've decided to live.
And I'm going to catch up reviews. Yes.