My two oldest are ferociously eyes deep in The Hunger Gamesâ€“one is reading the paperback version and one is reading the Kobo version. I promised I’d take them to see the movie once they have both finished.Â This is how I get Â my daughter to read. I bribe her. I am not above this, and feel no guilt. My son plows through books at an abnormal pace, re-reading an entire series if he finished the first run-through.
The problem here, of course, is that they have questions. And frankly, I don’t remember the book enough to answer them. “YOU GUYS I READ IT OVER THREE YEARS AGO! STOP ASKING ME.” Since I have read The Hunger Games, I have lived in another country, I have moved back to this country, I have had three different jobs, I have read hundreds of other books.
I can’t even remember what I ate for lunch yesterday.Â And yet. TheyÂ expect me to remember things about cut tongues and purple melon?
I guess I know what I’m doing this afternoon. Re-reading The Hunger Games. I didn’t even love it all that much the first time. I mean, I liked it just fine, but three years ago, I never thought that this children’s book was going to generate this kind of multi-generational hooplah. It’s sort of how I feel about this whole Zumba thing (everything in on the love train…I’m sort of lost on why it’s all that appealing.)
Jesus, the things I do for my offspring.
Other things to include on this list:
1. Iron a certain 5th grader’s hair in the morning when I am not even awake yet and haven’t even made my coffee. I had already explained to her about the dangers of handing me burning hot utensils before pre-caffeine when she insisted that a needed to hot-glue something for a school project, but they never ever learn. ALSO, why do my children insist on coming to me atÂ exactlyÂ 7:23 in the morning to remind me about things like Scholastic order forms and permission slips and money that they need to have for some fund-raiser and about projects and homework that they can’t find? 7:23am? Surely they could find a better time for this?
2. Allow my child to wear all-white with a hint of, turtle, I think? It’s battle-picking at its finest around here, and, again, at 7:23 in the morning I can’t be bothered to fight. So…she goes to school looking like aÂ HareÂ Krishna? The school has seen worse, I am sure.
3. Respond 47,000 times a day when I hear, “MAMA LOOK!”
4. Miss the last 20 minutes of a theater movie because someone didn’t take me up on my pre-movie bathroom trip. “No. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I don’t needa go!” Of course she didn’t. Until the last 20 minutes of the movie when she’s dancing and holding her crotch and insisting that if “we don’t go to the bathroom now I am going to EXPLODE all over the theater!” (Note to self: no more drinks at the movies)
5. Spend my hard-earned money on GAMES. You know, those stupid games that taunt children with their “Oh! Spend $100 and we will give you tickets! tickets! tickets! but, just so you know, you need exactly a billion tickets to even buy an eraser so HA HA HA on your parents! You are better off taking your kids to the dollar store where they will get something BETTER!”
6. Cutting the goddamn crusts off of Isabella’s Nutella sandwiches. WHY DO I DO THIS?
7. Share my drinks/snacks/food. And it’s not so much ‘share’ as it is ‘surrender.’
Obviously, I’m just one of those famous minute-born suckers.Â
Who has to re-read books and spend her life thirsty.
It’s probably worth it.