Reading Books to Children is BAD...
...in certain circumstances. Like when your eight-year-old daughter reads "Captain Underpants" to your four-year-old son. And then your four-year-old son decides that he IS Captain Underpants.
Especially when you consider that Captain Underpant's entire wardrobe consists of a cape and a pair of underwear.
Last night the boy was vanquishing evil all over the house. Even during Easter dinner. We found it particularly amusing that he had several spare pairs of underwear tucked into the only place he had to store them... the front of his underwear. He had *quite* the little package going there:
At first I thought he might just be trying to compensate for his, as he once put it, "puny little p***s"... but then we realized that there was a method to his madness. Captain Underpants uses underwear to defeat his enemies (by flipping it at them, springing them by the waistband, just like shooting a rubber band). It was quite the sight to see Captain Underpants whip a pair of briefs from his, well, briefs... and then snap them at his older brothers.
We finished the evening with him repeatedly leaping off the couch (in 'flying' mode, of course) while his faithful assistant "Dad" took pictures of him in mid-flight. Actually, one of the shots came out pretty good... and will live in the family archives forever. Here it is:
Nice, eh? "You'll believe a kid can fly."
So there you go. DON'T read to your kids. Reading BAD. (Ignore those pesky little side effects like literacy, confidence at school, and such...)
Or you might find Captain Package vanquishing evil in YOUR house, too.