Welcome boys and girls to story time with Papa. This is the place where Papa reads and admonishes children's stories that he finds deeply troubling or confusing. The selection I have for you today is entitled Wee Willie Winkle. Here goes:
Wee Willie Winkle runs through the town.
Upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown.
Rapping at windows, crying through the lock:
"Are the children in their beds. for now it's eight o'clock?"
Take a moment to re-read that story. Pause and reflect. I really want you to do some critical analysis. What does that story mean to you? If you are near someone, feel free to discuss it with that neighbor. Okay, if you and your new literary focus group are not at least somewhat disturbed by this point you need to check yourself. There is some nightgown-clad dude named Willie running all around town peeping through windows at children. I know I'm new at this parenting thing, but I feel like this is cause for great alarm. Seriously, what kind of person writes a poem like that? And how does that kiddy smut get published? And how does it stand the test of time so that it ends up in a book of nursery rhymes that is being read to my child as he lays his innocent head down to sleep? The more nursery rhymes I read the more I think that a conspiracy is at work here. I think there is a network of perverted poets colluding to infiltrate children's literature with deviance. The American people are blinded by the rhymes. Something must be done. I am dedicating my life to weeding out all creepiness from children's books. I aspire to be the Chris Hansen of story time. So tune in for the next edition of "to catch a perverted poet." We'll be dissecting and rightfully shaming the author of an offensive piece of trash called, "Come, Let's to Bed."
Shaking my head disapprovingly,
Papa
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