I fear that I am doomed to wonder if every caterpillar I ever see has eaten his was through one apple, two pears, three plums, four oranges, and five strawberries, or if he went straight to the junk food.

On countless nights we have gone “flippita fluppita fizzelly sizzelly wappity bappity lumpety bumpet clinkety clankety bing bang pop!” all the way to bed. In our imaginary rattletrap car, of course.

My first thought, when I saw a blimp flying over Manhattan a few weeks ago, was that maybe there were a couple of dogs playing ball on there. (Manchild was doubtful when I asked his opinion on the matter.)

I have a strange desire that pops up every now and then to attempt to eat a fruit or vegetable that starts with each letter of the alphabet. Mostly just after I’ve read this book.

We no longer see leaves on the ground. Not that they aren’t there, there are loads of them. But they have become “leaf mans” in our eyes.

And I wouldn’t be surprised if, one fall afternoon, I find the boys surrounded by tens of bruised apples in an attempt to out-do each other in stacking them on their heads.

What children’s books have seeped their way into your everyday thoughts?

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