Last night Lexie put Kevin to bed, so I wasn't involved in story time. While I was bathing him I gave him a pop quiz: "In a hole in the ground lived a ..."
He didn't remember. He took some guesses, but eventually I had to tell him. He didn't remember Bilbo's name either. After I reminded him he stumped me with, "What's his mom and dad's names?" Nice one. I mean I can dredge up "Frodo, son of Drogo" but to find Bilbo's parentage I'd have to go to the appendices in the Return of the King.
Lexie taped a couple episodes of Clifford and Arthur which Kevin asks to watch almost every afternoon. She complains about his watching the same thing over and over and over.
I'm sure there must be some comfort in reviewing something again and again. We didn't have a VCR when I was growing up, but I wore my folks Simon and Garfunkel records flat. One Christmas when I was about 10 I received "The Story of Star Wars" and Dad got "The Hobbit". Mine was a shortened version of the story with audio clips from the movie and narration one one album. Dad's was two records with the complete audio of the Rankin-Bass production. I played the heck out of those records, too. Though probably more of the second. Particularly after I taped the radio version of Star Wars on my cassettes. I listened to those a lot. I thought Perry King made rather a good Han Solo. John Huston is still my favorite Gandalf. Lines from "The Hobbit" still run through my head. I sing the riddles. If I played the record today I could probably speak along, inflections and all, with 90% of it.
As a teenager I would tape TV shows ("The 'A' Team" and "The Greatest American Hero" were favorites) with my cassette recorder propped up near the TV speaker. My first CCM "rock" album, Petra's Not of This World is pretty seared in my memory as well.
Anyway this repetition is normal for kids. And Kevin, in particular, comes by it naturally. Variety is the spice of life, but comfort food is that stuff you've had lots of times.
"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole. Nor a dry, bare, sandy hole. It was a hobbit hole. And that means: comfort."
John, I know you: almost _all_ your albums from high school are burned into your head. At least the ones that Commander Sloth and the Hubcaps covered.
E.