(I’m asked to read a story - The Gingerbread Boy - to my class.
The kids listen intently as we follow the gingerbread boy on his wild adventure. They’re wide-eyed as the little old lady creates the boy, puts him in the oven, and checks back some time later to see if he’s done baking. The kids squeal as the oven door is opened and the boy jumps down to the kitchen floor, bolting through the living room and out the front door. They gasp with nervous delight as the boy-on-the-run evades a cow, a horse, farmers, mowers, and other townspeople, all attempting to chase after him with hungry appetites.
The gingerbread boy, with hungry savages licking their chops in tow, arrives at the edge of the river. He’s wondering how to get safely across when he meets a cunning fox, who offers the boy a ride across the river, pointing out that the boy won’t make it across without help; he’ll break up into soggy pieces if he doesn’t hop on the fox’s tail for a ride. Once in the water, the fox says, “It’s getting deeper, you should climb on my back.” A minute later, “It’s getting deeper still, you should jump on top of my head.” Moments later, “Uh-oh, you’d better stand on my nose to stay dry.” At this point, the fox throws his head back and gobbles up the little gingerbread boy in 3 swift bites.
My students look slightly horrified. I’m sure I do, too… I didn’t really expect a children’s book to go there.
The story ends with the fox taking a proud-of-himself, peaceful nap as the cow, horse, and townspeople go back to what they were doing, all lamenting the loss of their coveted meal. My class goes back to their seat and begins discussing the story while I pass out a gingerbread boy coloring worksheet…)
Josh: “The fox ate him, Leo!!”
Leo: “But he could go to the hospital…”
Josh: “Give it up, man. He’s dead! Ain’t no comin’ back from that!”