Recently, I have taken to reading middle grade novels. It started as a way to encourage my son to read. Then it seemed like good research for the book chapter I was working on. As I finished one last night, however, I realized that no matter how much reason I attach to what I am doing, the reality is that I am just enjoying the books.
It's a bit ridiculous, I know. Why read about kids in elementary and middle school, when I have kids of my own who can show me enough of that drama, and I am way, way past that stage myself? The thing is, as traumatic as elementary and middle school may have been in elementary and middle school, they are a welcome relief sometimes from the traumas of adult life. I mean, seriously, when you're trying to figure out how to get kids here and there and at the same time figure out how to make sure you are making enough money for them even to do the things for which you are getting them here and there, it's a whole lot simpler just to read about other kids doing the things. And when you're wiped out from being the parent, it's pretty nice to be the kid for a little while. And with all there is to do each day, the length of a middle grade novel fits in a whole lot better than that of a giant book with many hundreds of pages (easier to carry around too!)
It's a little wacky, I know, and I'm sure at some point, I will move on to the books people will be talking about at the proverbial water cooler. For now, I'll enjoy my little vacation back to my youth (no, wait, not mine, someone else's!).
And isn't vacation what summer's all about?
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