Owen on Goodnight Moon

Daddy Owen:  I’d like a cup of that – woo.  Oh, hi.  I didn’t hear you come in.  Most people knock but that’s alright.  You’re here, in the Reading Room.  Hey, would you like to hear a story?  I thought you would.  We’ve got a new classic today.  Or at least it’s new to me.  It’s called Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brow.  Pictures by Clement Hurd.  It says on the pack it a classic bedtime story that has lulled generations of children to sleep.  Just like The English Patient.  Well, let’s go ahead and start. 

“In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of…”  It doesn’t say.  This is going to be a suspense book.  “The cow jumping over the moon and there were three little bears sitting in chairs.”  This part wasn’t colorized because of budget problems.  “And two little kittens in a pair of mittens.”  Don’t worry; we’re just setting the stage.  The action is about to vooooom.  “And a little toy house and a young mouse.  And then the enn – And a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush.”  Which should probably be put away.  “And a quiet old lady who was whispering ‘hush’.  Goodnight room.”

Hmm.  There you go.  I guess we can look around the room a little bit.  It’s a family of rabbits and the rabbits’ own kittens, which is weird.  And they’re also into big game hunting because there’s the carcass of a tiger over there.  Oh, and there’s a painting over – oh, is it of a rabbit fishing for another rabbit.  This, uh…well, let’s just keep going.

“Goodnight moon.  Goodnight cow jumping over the moon.”  The cow’s had its nipples sandpapered off it udder and has a small chipmunk growing out of its head.  “Goodnight light.  And red balloon.  Goodnight bears.  Goodnight chairs.”  Okay, a little compulsive-obsessive disorder.  “Goodnight kittens, goodnight mittens.”  You know, just because things rhyme you don’t have to put them in a book.  There’s no rule to that.

“Goodnight clocks, goodnight socks.”  Oh boy.  “Goodnight little house, goodnight mouse.”  Whew.  “Goodnight comb, goodnight brush.  Goodnight nobody, goodnight mush.”  I don’t even know what the hell…at this point the author’s really reaching for it, anything.  It’s like the last few seasons of the X-Files.  “Goodnight to the old lady whispering ‘hush’.  Goodnight stars, goodnight air.”

What the ---bleep--- where’d the old lady go?  ---Bleep--- she’s gone.  She could be anywhere.  You’re going to read this to a child?  The old lady, the old bunny lady, the cannibal bunny lady?  I can’t – I can’t approve of this.  No, no, I don’t care how much you pay me.  No. Scary.  Naughty scary.  Can I have some more lingerie please?  Either gender.  I’m not particular.  Thank you for coming to the reading room.