Once upon a time there was a little girl who grew up in the country who loved to read because, let’s face it, it was either that or name all her pet chickens and carry on in-depth conversations with them. Wait a minute, she SO did that.

She’d curl up on her bed or sprawl in a chair on the shady screened-in back porch and get lost in her favorite book.

The little girl grew up and had two daughters of her own. Her 7-year-old was a good reader and it was so exciting seeing her daughter excel in reading. The little girl who grew up to be a mother had dreamed of the day she’d pass on her favorite books, like her Little House on the Prairie series or her dog-eared copy of The Secret Garden, to her daughters.

Then one week the book fair came to school. Oh how the little girl who grew up to be a soccer mom in the suburbs who found solace in the Target dollar section and the occasional, yet elusive, nap remembered the book fair from her school days. She and her daughter headed into the school library the afternoon the book fair opened. Her daughter was so excited to show her the books she’d selected that she practically dragged her to the chapter books display area. The mother thought to herself with wistful anticipation…What children’s literary classic would her daughter discover as she read familiar passages? Anne of Green Gables? Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm? Caddie Woodlawn?

THIS is what her 2nd grader plucked from the shelf.

WTH? You’ve got to be kidding me! Freaking rabid hamsters? Was this some sort of twisted parental karma for not buying her children Zhu Zhu pets for Christmas?

At least her daughter chose to dress up as Nancy Drew for Favorite Book Character Day or there would be much brain washing, I mean sadness.