![]() ![]() That day at the library, I was standing near the S shelf, and noticed a copy of Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are. There are often tantrums, and it can be exhausting for everyone. We’re going through a rough patch right now, filled with battles of wills. As usual, he barely heard me-he was playing with the train table and the barn set and having way too much fun and me asking him about books was a signal that we’d be going home soon. As usual, I asked him what books he’d like. I’d picked up the book for him on Take Your Child to The Library Day. ![]() Was it okay to enjoy this book about this boy doing these bad things? Could he get in trouble for liking it? I tried not to react and just kept reading. There was this boy in a wolf suit, doing a bunch of things that were clearly Bad, but-let’s be honest-those things were also pretty intriguing. The first time my three-year-old opened Where The Wild Things Are, he was hesitant. ![]()
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