The Training

Son #2 is determined to find pages in children’s books that aren’t there.

The other day we were looking at a book whose pages had the pictures and names of baby animals.

We reached the end of the book, which features the back cover. This back cover was superglued to the last page. But because of the page’s thickness, it protruded from the panel. Son #2 thought there were more pages to look at. So he dug his fingernail between the two pieces of cardboard.

The thing with these children’s books is that they are not only hard-backed but also hard-paged. The pages are of the thickest card stock known to mankind.

Why? Because children are brute destroyers of all things. The thin-paged books we bought for them, they tore into shreds.

Son #2 likes to be around books. He will sit with me in the recliner for thirty minutes while I read. He’ll look at the pages even though there aren’t any pictures. (No, I don’t only read books with pictures, thank you very much.)

He says boot when he is talking about books. “Boot” is pronounced like the word “put.” Except he pronounces the B and the oo expertly. But he can’t get the K out. So it’s boot instead of book.

The other day, he smiled at me sweetly, and the smile warmed my heart. He tilted his head to one side and said, “Boot.” He pointed at one of my favorite books.

“Yes! That’s a book.” I smiled and patted his head. What a sweet child.

Then he grabbed the book and spun around on a dime, and ran away. When I reached him, he held one of the pages in his tiny hand. He had created a unique diagonal slant with a rough edge in the middle of my book. Namely, he ripped the paper right down the center.

I subscribe to the Missouri Conservationist magazine, among others. Sometimes, as we sit peacefully in the living room, from somewhere in the house, we’ll hear the unmistakable sound of the “sskkt” of paper tearing in half. Then Son #2 will waltz his big self down the hall and hand us the remainder of the April 2023 issue.

The positive thing about this is we don’t need to spend money on a paper shredder for sensitive bank documents. We give them to the children.

The other day, I picked up a stack of pages off an end table, only to realize it was a coverless children’s Bible.

But this wasn’t a haphazard tear. The cover was, strategically and cleanly, separated from the pasted-down endpaper. It was as if someone had taken a surgical knife and sliced the thin endpaper from the inside of the cover.

So my guess is Son #2 will either be a demolition expert or a brain surgeon.

Or maybe he’s practicing to be a part of the phone-book-ripping Power Team.

I’m just glad I can supply the training material.

to the future,
– Caleb