Speaking of incoherence:
The neighbor gave us a big stuffed Pikachu a while back. I hate this thing. It's larger than life and twice as ugly, and it kicks around the floor collecting dust until someone uses it to whomp her siblings. The six-year-old loves it because it's soft and gaudy and a link to all the Japanimation she never sees at home. The other week, she was sent to the office for insisting to her religion teacher that I read to her from a Pikachu Bible.
"Oh?" says the teacher. "Your mom's upstairs. I'm going to ask her about it. I want to see this Pikachu bible."
"She didn't bring it," says Miss Six. "She only reads it at home."
In the car on the way home, she was utterly unrepentant, and indeed, kept digging herself in deeper.
"What on earth possessed you to tell your teacher that I read you a Pikachu Bible?" I asked.
"I said: 'It is the Nab of Pikachu translation'," she declared proudly.
"Oh, the Nab, huh?" At least she's reading, right?
The moment we arrived home, she was bursting through the kitchen door yelling, "Dad! Did you hear I got sent to the office for saying that Mommy read the Nab Pikachu Bible?"
At least I'm pretty sure that this is a first in the "Sent to the Office" files.
|Here is Pikachu and the Nab Bible|