What I Love About Pooh

I never read the original Winnie-the-Pooh stories as a kid. My little sister loved the Pooh books. In fact, I think she read them aloud to her first fetus. If I had known when I had a fetus what she knew about Pooh, I might have read them to my boy in utero too. But then I would have missed the giggle fests we have together at bedtime.

All that to say I'm glad I discovered Pooh with my boy.

I love that the first thing Piglet says to himself each day is "I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?"

I love Pooh's philosophy on writing poetry:

But whatever his weight in pounds,

shillings, and ounces,

He always seems bigger

because of his bounces.

 

"And that's the whole poem," he said. "Do you like it, Piglet?"

"All except the shillings," said Piglet. "I don't think they ought to be there."

"They wanted to come in after the pounds," explained Pooh, "so I let them come in. It is the best way to write poetry, letting things come."

 

And I love Pooh's absent mindedness...

"Pooh was so busy not looking where he was going that he stepped on a piece of the forest which had been left out by mistake (hee hee hee) and he only just had time to think to himself "I'm flying. What Owl does."

 

That last one made me giggle as I read. When I started to giggle, my boy giggled too. When he giggled, I giggled more. Then he snort-giggled and we just couldn't stop.

 

That's what I love most about Pooh.