Last year, shortly before Christmas, my aunt posted one of those things on Facebook where you’re supposed to list the ten books that most influenced you, as fast as you can, without editing yourself. She tagged several of my family members in her post, and this transpired.
As you can see, I was quite taken aback by my mom’s revelation that she not only didn’t like “The Little Engine That Could”, but she likely skipped pages while reading it to me. And skipping pages during Babar! I loved Babar even more…I mean, an elephant that wears clothes and has adventures around town? What’s not to like? The font, apparently.
As I wondered what damage had been done by missing chunks of stories as a child, my uncle Michael commented that they’d read Babar to me if my mother wouldn’t. I laughed and forgot about it.
We met my Uncle Michael and Aunt Kathy for lunch in St. Petersburg, Florida over Christmas. A couple weeks had passed since the Babar conversation, but they’d remembered it and brought “The Story of Babar” with them to lunch. My mom immediately began making reparations.
It was interesting to read this book as an adult.
Sounds innocent enough. And then…
Um…Babar married his cousin? No wonder my mom skipped pages!
I went to the children’s book section in search of more answers about Babar.
Apparently Babar was fully committed to his cousin marriage!
Now Celeste is just referred to as the wife, sweeping that whole cousin thing right under the rug.
I wonder how many other books from my childhood feature scandals I never thought to question as a kid?