^{Sick of the Pig}

So the New York State Education Board censored literature used in standardized testing, removing most references to race, religion and anything potentially offensive. They edited out the label "Jews" from Isaac Bashevis Singer. (They also removed his middle name so he became the less Jewish-sounding Isaac Singer.) Before this practice was stopped, the literature used in the testing could not espouse a belief not held by by each and every twitchy, opinionated test-taker. From a Tolstoy story, they removed the description of a wealthy man ordering his servants strip-searched to find a stolen item. They either didn't like the nudity or decided this was prejudiced against the rich. In case you were looking for another reason to dislike standardized tests, I'd say this qualifies. It got me thinking about censorship in the Bone Daddy household.

This little piggy went to the market, This little piggy stayed home, This little piggy ate tofu, This little piggy ate none, And this little piggy went crying, Wee! Wee! Wee! all the way home!

Of course, my daughter, at age two, is a little short of high school. We're vegetarians so why shouldn't the third little piggy eat tofu? It's not like I'm colorizing Casablanca here. "Pigs don't eat tofu!," I'm told. I'm sorry, but how often do they eat roast beef?

(Has anyone heard the Denny's radio ad featuring Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy? The big joke at the end is that Miss Piggy is glad they didn't go French because now she can enjoy eggs, bacon and sausage for $2.99 and Kermit says, "I'm a frog. I don't do French." This joke depends on our knowledge that the French eat frog legs, but expects us to be ignorant of the fact that sausage and bacon come from pigs. Jim Henson, clearly, is dead.)

I don't sanitize most books and I have faith that when she gets to high school she'll be able to handle Isaac Bashevis Singer and James Baldwin in their original forms. My daughter understands that the bear in Shadow Bear is trying to catch the fish. She understands that bears eat fish, that dogs chase cats, that plesiosaurs eat fish (don't ask). The Wild Things threaten to eat Max up.

Humpty Dumpty is altered in one of our Sesame Street books. The last lines are "And everyone tried but no one could help/ 'til Ernie put Humpty together again." I understand "Humpty dies" is kind of a downer. But if you're going to change that around, why not change "Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater" as well? Maybe Peter shouldn't imprison his wife? There's an illustration of Peter's wife sticking her head out of a pumpkin to watch Ernie and Peter play checkers, no doubt thinking to herself, "I'll never get out of this one." There's a great Doonesbury cartoon where Joannie reads that rhyme to her son and adds, "You understand Peter was a sexist porker, don't you?" "Yes, Mommy."

My daughter is often interested in books that are too old for her. Too many words. Too much Otter Pup's mom getting killed by a shark right in front of him. This one I edit myself. Instead of "The shark slams her back into the water as she shrieks horribly and disappears beneath the surface," it's "And sometimes they see sharks, but they always stay away." That mostly fits the illustration, which has a giant shark racing towards Mom while Otter Pup puts his little paws to his face in classic Home Alone style.

I'm not trying to be Joe Lieberman here or anything, but she's only two. It's hardest to edit her books just to suit my personal preferences. I have to confess here that I've always hated Curious George. I guess I can see how George is a loveable scamp, always hopping around causing trouble. But for some reason, I could never identify with George. He always seemed like a joyless little automaton, driven with a junkie's desperation to touch things, pull things and open things. George never exhibits a personality beyond his need to mess with things. He exists in one state - curious. Anything you put in front of him will excite him to the exact same degree the last thing in front of him did. He has no personality beyond "Monkey who fucks with things."

Now, we here at Triptych Cryptic love monkeys who fuck with things, but I always wondered about the people around George who had to clean up after him. Someone had to put the pigs back in the pen, someone had to call the hospital 'cause George swallowed a puzzle piece, and someone had to wipe the paint off the walls and tell the fire department it was only a false alarm. Why do they keep George around? The Man with the Yellow Hat doesn't even warrant a name, even though he is obviously the only thing standing between George and a grisly death. Curious George and the Gallon of Bleach. Curious George and the Cosmetics Lab.

I'm also starting to harbor an intense dislike of the Pig in If You Give a Pig a Pancake. A nameless little girl gives a hobo pig a pancake, which leads to a bunch of other demands or, in the lingo of kid's books, "adventures." The Pig needs a bubble bath and has the little girl take pictures of him while he dances in her clothes. The Pig needs help building a tree fort and sending letters to all his friends who, I'll bet, never want to see him again. Anyway, they never finish one project before something else catches the pig's eye and he dashes off with a new mandate, trailed by an increasingly tired little girl. At the end, she's sleeping at the kitchen table and the pig wants another pancake.

I'm not sure why kids would like a book that strikes me as so anti-kid. (This is after approximately one thousand readings mind you.) If You Give a Pig a Pancake is about the work, mess and time involved following around a hyperactive child. Either that, or it's about the dangers of charity. Generosity, it seems, leads to dependence and endless hassles from the deranged. It's a cautionary tale. You shouldn't give the pig a pancake.

I have to confess I thought If You Give a Pig a Pancake was cute for the first hundred or so readings. At this point, I can't even find the book to confirm some of the details. I must have hidden it where we would never, ever find it. I think it's okay to be parental in this case since, well, I'm the parent. She's two and Daddy is sick of that pig, that's my excuse for censorship. It's better than New York's.