There was a time when Amelia Bedelia's ridiculous adventures in misunderstanding were my favourite. I am gaining a renewed appreciation for the brilliance of these lovingly rendered books. My six-almost-seven-year-old daughter thinks they are so hilarious. She'll recount all her favourite bits each day, only half understanding the jokes, but knowing that there is a joke to be understood. She stands on the precipice of getting her head wrapped around double meanings.
"Do you remember when she thought a sponge cake should be made with sponges?"
"Do you remember when she drew ON the drapes, when they asked her to draw the drapes?"
"There is the one I think is so funny, when she trims the tree with scissors instead of ornaments."
Each figure of speech comes with a very long winding explanation as she talks out the possible reasons why it is such a crazy predicament that Amelia finds herself in.
"Do you remember when she thought a sponge cake should be made with sponges?"
"Do you remember when she drew ON the drapes, when they asked her to draw the drapes?"
"There is the one I think is so funny, when she trims the tree with scissors instead of ornaments."
Each figure of speech comes with a very long winding explanation as she talks out the possible reasons why it is such a crazy predicament that Amelia finds herself in.
She is just this side of not being the Amelia anymore.
The meanings of words are duplicating.
The figures of speech are slipping into her speech.
Soon, there won't be any danger of her mixing up sponge cake with sponges.
The meanings of words are duplicating.
The figures of speech are slipping into her speech.
Soon, there won't be any danger of her mixing up sponge cake with sponges.
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