Is it just me, or does anyone have a deeply complex relationship to this goddamn book?
Did anyone else see this cute little munchkin on the cover, think to self "I know this is a classic?" and bring it on home for beddy-byes reading?
Did anyone else get a few pages in and read out loud,"But at night time, when that two-year-old was quiet, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed; and if he was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth"?
Did anyone else get a teensy bit creeped out by that?
And then, does anyone find that despite this chilling experience, at the same time, as you read on to your darling child, you choke on these words: "He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was a grown-up man. He left home and got a house across town" You try to read , but your voice is cracking and you stifle sobs as you utter the words because Oh God, one day you'll LEAVE me, and one day I'll grow older, and older, and older, and I will DIE, and I will NEVER KNOW MY GRAND-DAUGHTER!!!!!"
Was just wondering.