Day 12: Girls Made of Glitter, Boys Made of Farts

Marina is still here so it was another day of talking, shopping around town, eating. It has quite literally rained the entire time she has been here so sight seeing isn't exactly in the cards. Not that we care. We are easy to entertain. Rumor has it it's going to stop raining tomorrow (gasp!) for an entire day so we are going to see the sights of San Francisco. 

We went to the super rad bookstore in town this morning and found ourselves in the kids section most of the time. I have to admit, books for kids are so much cooler now. Example A: Dragons Love Tacos. The favorite book in the house. There's no excuse not to read (as long as you know how to read...you know, small prerequisites). 

Marina has three girls. I have two boys. Though our oldests and youngests are eerily similar, boys and girls most certainly, as proven by some shrink that decided to write a book in the 90s (which instantly makes him an expert, obviously), are from completely other planets. Girls are born infatuated with their fashion style and hair and pink fingernails, boys are born infatuated with their junk. Girls grow to love fairy tales and elegant princesses, boys grow to love farts and boogers. This is science. 

This also pertains to their reading material. Here's what Marina picked out for her girls (an elegant story about girls in Neverland trying to help the fairies or something), side by side with what I picked for my boys (a story about...a farting dinosaur. And a group of kids who's superpower to fight the fart dinosaur is...farts). 

Okay, so we actually got these books at Target and not the bookstore. But we got books at the bookstore first

And now ladies and gentlemen, an excerpt: 

"From great farts come mighty winds', Stan liked to say. ....he'd been holding on to a "special" batch of burritos ever since, just in case the Fart Squad's talents ever needed to be recharged again. And a rampaging fart monster seemed like just their kind of emergency."

Now isn't that elegant depth of writing just asking to be a Pulitzer Prize nominee? 

To further prove my point, Fartasaurus Rex was wedged in between Captain Underpants and the sequel to Fartasaurus Rex: the highly esteemed Unidentified Farting Objects. 

The good news is, if the goal in the world is to get young boys to read, they have succeeded wildly. Because what boy between the ages of 6 and 11 doesn't want to read about superheroes and butt jokes?

Maybe the Fart Squad series won't earn a Caldecott Medal, but it will most certainly get my kids reading chapter books. 

A winner is me. 

(what's that smell?)

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