Let’s Keep It Real, Todd

We have three or four Todd Parr books, and the boys love them. I do too, for the most part. But two of the books have pages that annoy me.

Brian and I are not the most politically correct household. We have some of Brian’s children’s books from the ‘50s and ‘60s. One pictures a hunter shooting Harp seals (yes, Harp seals) and another has children playing cowboys and Indians with realistic-looking play guns.

I don’t go out of my way to show my boys hunters and stereotyping shoot-out scenes. Quite the opposite. I’m strict about what they can watch and read. Ben’s one of the few boys in his class who hasn’t seen Pokemon or watched a PG movie.

We also have lots of recent children’s books. Last year I stumbled on a huge sale at Bookcloseouts, 50 percent off children’s books, so I spent about $150 on a library for the boys. With this stock of books and trips to the library, I hope to instill in them a love of reading that will take them beyond the violent, sexist culture that TV teaches to children.

So back to Todd Parr. His books tend to be silly but they also appear to want to teach tolerance and acceptance. That’s great, but I think sometimes Parr takes these goals and oversteps reality.

For instance, in The Okay Book, each page has statements like, “It’s okay to cry,” “It’s okay to live in a small house,” “It’s okay to be scared.” Great message. But then there’s a page that says, “It’s okay to be skinny,” with “It’s okay to be big,” on the facing page.

When I first read this to Ben, he corrected me and said, “Fat! She’s fat.” Sure, "fat" is the more accurate word, but it’s not acceptable to call people fat, because it can hurt feelings. So I explained that to him. But my problem with that page is, why is it okay to call someone “skinny”? Isn’t that the opposite of fat, and hence just as offensive? If the fat person is “big,” why isn’t the skinny person “small,” or even “thin,” or “slender”?

Then there’s The Mommy Book. In this one, Parr explains that, “Some mommies drive minivans,” while, “Some mommies drive motorcycles.” “Some mommies like to cook,” while “Some mommies like to order pizza.” Then there’s the obligatory, “Some mommies work at home,” while “Some mommies work in big buildings.”

Before I even read this book, my all-time favorite babysitter read it to the kids, and her five-year-old daughter pointed out the obvious. “All mommies work at home!” she said, proud of herself for finding such a blatant mistake in a published book.

That’s right, Melissa, and I would guess that all mommies like to order pizza, too, at least sometimes.