A Few Beloved Children’s Books That I Have a Problem With

I am going to list a few beloved children’s books that I have a problem with.  I’m not saying that I dislike these books.  It’s just that they each have parts that bother me.

Picture this.  You’re reading a book to your child.  You’re getting caught up in the story and admiring the beautiful illustrations.  All of the sudden, you stop reading and say, “Huh?”    

You have stumbled upon a passage that makes no sense.  It’s not that it’s unrealistic.  Children’s books are full of unrealistic things.  You expect to see fantasy in children’s books.  

The problem is that something in the story does not fit.  It’s not quite right.  It could’ve easily been changed without harming the story at all.  

If they had simply thought to change that one part, it wouldn’t bother you every single time you read the book to your child.  (Or when you read it alone.  Or to your students.  Or out loud to other adults.  How am I supposed to know the manner in which you enjoy children’s literature?)

Here are a few beloved children’s books that bother me:

The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss

Great book.  Classic.  I read it to my boys all the time.  

I only have one gripe.  Toward the end of the book, the mom is seen through the front window of the house. She’s coming home.  I’d say she’s about ten steps from the front door. 

All of the following events then occur, before she sets foot inside the house:

1.  The fish tells the boy and the girl that they’d better hurry up and do something about Thing 1 and Thing 2.  (These are creatures who have been wrecking the house.)

2.  The boy retrieves a net on a ten-foot pole.

3.  He chases down Thing 1 and Thing 2, capturing them with his net.

4.  After some discussion, the boy convinces the Cat in the Hat to take away Thing 1 and Thing 2.

5.  The Cat puts Thing 1 and Thing 2 into a big red wood box and shuts the lid tightly.  He hauls the box out front door.

6.  The fish explains to the children that they still have a big mess to clean up.

7.  The Cat re-enters the house, riding on a cleaning machine.

8.  The Cat’s cleaning machine picks up the fish, a vase, a picture, a toy boat, a kite, a teacup, a book, a brush, a lampshade, a dish, a fan, a jar of milk, a gown, a rake, and some other items that were on the floor.  It also sweeps up all the dirt on the floor.

9.  The Cat tips his hat, says goodbye, and rides his cleaning machine back out the front door.

Again, all of those things happen after the mom is spotted about ten steps away from the front door and before she walks in the front door.  In other words, all of those events happened within ten to fifteen seconds.  

I acknowledge that the book is fantasy. Obviously. Still, couldn’t Dr. Seuss have drawn the picture to show the mother a little farther away when they spotted her out the window?

Every time I read The Cat in the Hat, it bothers me that so many things happen inside that minuscule time frame.  I understand that Dr. Seuss is bending the rules of animal behavior in order to tell an entertaining story about a cat.  He even invents new creatures. That’s fine.  

Why, though, did he decide in one part of the book to alter the laws of time and space when there was no need to?  That scene could have still packed plenty of fun and suspense if the mom had been seen, say, a block or two away.

Is it too late to do a re-write?

Here Comes the Strikeout by Leonard Kessler

Willie is a boy who’s good at baseball and Bobby is a boy who can’t hit to save his life.  In his career, Bobby is 0 for 20 at the plate with 20 strikeouts. That’s pretty bad.  

Willie tries to help Bobby by lending him his lucky bat.  Bobby strikes out, anyway.  

The next day, Willie agrees to personally tutor Bobby in hitting.  He begins with a lecture.  He tells Bobby, “Lucky helmets won’t do it.  Lucky bats won’t do it.  Only hard work will do it.”

Here Comes the Strikeout is an entertaining and inspiring book.  It’s a little bit annoying, though, that Willie offers to loan Bobby his lucky bat, then the very next day he turns around and lectures him about how lucky bats won’t help you get a hit.

Willie, don’t you remember?  Yesterday, you were expounding on the efficacy of using a lucky bat.  Now, you’re browbeating Bobby for trying out your very own idea?

That part will always bother me.  

The Rain Came Down by David Shannon

A lady is in a taxi cab on her way to catch a flight when a heavy rainstorm suddenly begins.  Traffic comes to a standstill.  She says to the cab driver, “Hurry up or I’ll miss my plane!”  

When the rain stops, the traffic begins to clear.  You would think the lady would say to the driver, “Step on it!”  

Instead, the nice weather inspires her to go the beauty parlor to get her hair done.  She gives up her cab to another lady who needs help carrying a bundle of packages.

Here’s my problem: would someone really choose to miss their flight because they suddenly decided to get their hair done?  

Danny and the Dinosaur by Syd Hoff

The dinosaur, by his own account, has been dead for one hundred million years.  When he leaves the museum to go play with Danny, it’s the beginning of a typical fish-out-of-water story.  

The dinosaur is unfamiliar with the modern things he encounters around town.  For example, he sees some tall buildings and thinks they are big rocks to climb on.  

But when they go to watch a baseball game, Danny says, “Hit the ball,” and the dinosaur chimes in, “Hit a home run.”  

How does the dinosaur know what a home run is?  He didn’t even know what a building was.  It makes no sense.  

Olivia by Ian Falconer

Olivia, a preschool-age pig, visits the art museum and sees a Jackson Pollock painting.  She says, “I could do that in about five minutes.” 

Then, on a wall at home, Olivia paints an accurate imitation of the Jackson Pollock.  Are we supposed to believe that a preschooler has that kind of painting skill?

If you know the book, you’re probably going to tell me now that I’m being inconsistent.  You’re going to remind me that earlier in the story, Olivia was at the beach and she made an unrealistically amazing sand castle.  It looked just like the Chrysler Building in Manhattan.  Why didn’t I criticize that part?  

Or better yet, you’re wondering, why don’t I just leave the book alone?  “It’s part of the book’s sense of humor to show a preschooler doing all these incredible things,” you say.

All I can tell you is that the painting part bothers me, while the sand castle part does not bother me.  I have no further explanation.

Goldilocks by James Marshall

The first thing I should note is that the fault here lies not with James Marshall, but with the traditional story itself.  I list James Marshall’s name for two reasons:

1.  His version of Goldilocks is the one I own. 

2.  His Botero-esque illustrations are the finest in all of children’s literature.  Goldilocks is right up there with his best work, as is Miss Nelson is Missing and Miss Nelson Has a Field Day.  Great stuff.

Back to Goldilocks.  You know the story.  The bears make porridge one morning.  It’s too hot to eat right away.  In this version, they go on a bike ride while it cools.  

That’s when Goldilocks comes in.  She’s hungry.  She snoops around the house and finds the porridge.  Papa Bear’s is too hot.  Mama Bear’s is too cold.  Baby Bear’s porridge is just right.  

The problem is that Mama Bear’s bowl is larger than Baby Bear’s.  How in the world is it possible that Mama Bear’s porridge (in the medium-sized bowl) has cooled off more quickly than Baby Bear’s porridge (which is in the small bowl)?  

It defies the laws of thermodynamics. I don’t like that one bit.

The Berenstain Bears books by Stan and Jan Berenstain

Have you ever heard of the Berenstain Bears books?  (Kidding.) The good ones are the old ones.  Look for copyright dates from the 70’s, 80’s, and early 90’s.  The newer ones are unreadable.  

Over the course of making any series, it’s probably difficult to keep all of the details lined up.  One obvious flaw in the Berenstain Bears books stands out to me, though.  It’s regarding their humble abode.

According to New Baby, Papa Bear constructed their house by hollowing out a big tree.

Moving Day tells a different story.  It says that the Bear family used to live in a remote mountain cave until, one day, they decided to go down into the valley and move into the treehouse that we all know and love.  In this case, the treehouse already existed, but it was a fixer upper.  It needed a new window or two, fresh paint, and a few other odds and ends. 

Which is it, then?  Did Papa Bear hollow out the tree, or was it already a hollowed-out treehouse and he just spruced it up a little bit?  

If I can’t trust Stan and Jan Berenstain’s account of where the Bear family treehouse came from, how can I trust their advice about stranger danger?  Or about avoiding junk food?  Or about watching too much TV?  

My other issue with Berenstain Bears is the book No Girls Allowed.  Its lesson is that if you’re a girl and the boys are unfairly excluding you, the solution is to go off and do your own thing.  Eventually, if what you’re doing is interesting enough, the boys will get jealous and want to join you.  

In short, girls should not horn in on the boys’ fun.  Meanwhile, boys should get to horn in on the girls’ fun whenever they want.  How messed up is that?

Come to think of it, I take that back.  I think that’s how women’s suffrage happened!  

Remember?  When women couldn’t vote, they went off and founded their own country.  This made the men jealous when they saw all the fun the women were having.  Finally, the men asked to merge countries.  After the merger, they allowed both men and women the right to vote.  

With that in mind, I have no issue at all with The Berenstain Bears: No Girls Allowed.  

As for the treehouse’s origin story? I’d like a definitive answer on that.

The Amelia Bedelia books by Peggy Parish 

Several authors and illustrators have made Amelia Bedelia books, but the best ones are those written by Peggy Parish and illustrated by Lynn Sweat. Those are the classic Amelia Bedelia books.  

“What about the newer knockoffs?” you ask.  I’ve only briefly glanced through them at the bookstore, but from what I’ve seen, I’m not a fan.

Besides the existence of the newer knockoffs, I have only one tiny problem with the Amelia Bedelia series. It’s the book they failed to make.  They should have made a book called Amelia Bedelia Gets Fired.  

She’s a terrible maid who always messes things up.  How did she never get fired in any of the books?  

I’m sure there are many more beloved children’s books that deserve to be on this list, but these are the particular ones that bother me.  Perhaps now they’ll bother you as well.  You’re welcome!