Winnie-the-Pooh

I am ashamed to admit I had never actually read the original Winnie-the-Pooh book.  Seriously.  How did I never encounter this book as a child?  I am going to have to broach this subject with my mother- let's hope I don't need therapy after learning why we never read A.A. Milne's classic.

Is it ridiculous that a full-grown adult still reads children's books?  Not just young adult literature, but actual children's books?  Whenever I see a Berenstain Bear book, it's a lost cause; I am faithful to Mama, Papa, Sister and Brother Bear- even after more than twenty years since our first introduction.  The American Girls books?  Don't even get me started.  I have to steer clear of their section in the bookstore or else I will be sitting there for hours reading every last one of them.  And Dr. Suess?  Pretty sure I can recite One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish in its entirety.  And yes, I still read How the Grinch Stole Christmas every year- even if it's just to myself.

And I know there are others like me out there.  Don't deny it.  There is something wonderful about reading children's books as an adult; it doesn't matter if you've read the story hundreds upon hundreds of times in your life or if you somehow never got the chance to experience the magic of the story as a child.  For me, Winnie-the-Pooh was one such book.  I don't feel the need to give you a synopsis of the book because it really isn't one story; it's a collection of short stories involving our favorite Pooh Bear and his friends Piglet (my personal favorite), Kanga, Roo, Rabbit, Eeyore, Owl, and of course, Christopher Robin.  I will, however, mention one thing I learned and include one brief excerpt.

First, what I learned was this: children's books have a remarkably calming effect, even if the characters are in danger at that particular moment.  Case in point: last weekend, my husband went out of town and I was left all alone.  I'm not a particularly fearful person, but I do fall victim to having an overly active imagination.  Thursday night, as I was enjoying the hilariousness that is 30 Rock, a trailer for that new movie about aliens came on the television. 

And I didn't mute it in time. 

My eyes were glued on the screen, and I started freaking out.  Not freaking out like jumping up and down and screaming, but I sat there on my couch and stared at the images flashing before my eyes as my imagination began to produce evidence that one of these horrific aliens was waiting in my bedroom to abduct me.

Not cool.  I turned on as many lights as I could, got settled into bed, and immediately grabbed Winnie-the-Pooh.  All I have to say is thank you A.A. Milne for saving my sanity that night.  I was transplanted into Hundred Acre Wood where I could laugh at the silly old bear and his adventures with his friends and his obsession with his honey.  Reading the stories made me feel innocent and naive again- what a remarkable experience.  And obviously, there was no alien lurking in my bedroom and I did not get abducted by aliens, for which I am very thankful.

My favorite part of the book is the following exchange between Pooh and Piglet:

"When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"
"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh.  "What do you say, Piglet?"
"I say, I wonder what 's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.

Indeed, Piglet.  Indeed.  What exciting thing will happen today?

(I only hope that exciting thing is not an alien abducting yours truly...)