When our kids were young we often spent a week at Topsail Island, NC for our summer vacation. It was an eight hour drive to the beach from Lilburn, GA. I remember this one year that we were on our way driving for only an hour or so when Ann piped up that she had finished her book. Ann was in middle school at the time and asked what I had that she might read. I always took several books to the beach, and so tossed one over the back seat. I was a little annoyed that she had not thought ahead to bring some books of her own, but was also tickled that she was willing to tackle the same novels that I was reading. She always did read well above her age/grade level.
A day or two later Ann had finished the book and sought me out. She asked, “Dad, did you read that book you gave me?” “No”, I replied, “Not yet”. She said, “I don’t think you meant to give me that book.” “Really?” I said, “Why not?” Ann smiled and suggested that I read the book.
The book was Rising Sun by Michael Crichton. When I read the book I discovered that it contained some sex; not just plain sex, but some unusual sex. It was a good book, Michael Crichton writes well, but that one bit of content was not “age appropriate”. I sought Ann out and apologized for giving her that book to read. She smiled, like she’d got away with something, and she had.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I would be pleased if you would read my blog and leave a comment here. I refuse to beg; it’s too demeaning.