Hal had received some books from his grandmother for his ninth birthday. I hadn’t looked at them closely but they looked like biographies of less famous American historical figures geared toward younger children. I noticed him reading one of them one morning as he waited for me to be ready to take him to school.
“What book were you reading?” I asked as we headed down the driveway.
“The Journal of Jesse Smoke.”
“How is it?”
“Good. It’s written like it’s his diary except he doesn’t share his feelings.”
“OK. I don’t know Jesse Smoke. Who was he? It’s a true story, isn’t it?”
“I think so but I don’t know he was. I haven’t read much of it yet.”
“Well, when you get further into it, please tell me about him. I’d like to learn.”
And with that, he absorbed himself in the book (which had to be tricky since he had just finished wrapping himself up as a pretzel inside his hoodie to protect against that oh-gosh-so-awfully-cold-Texas-October morning weather).
After a few minutes of silence from the backseat, he announced, “Mommy, I don’t think this is a true story. A bunch of people just turned themselves into bears to go down a hole. And – if you are a real human, you can’t just turn yourself into a bear.”
I was fairly certain this was an historical book, so I took a guess and said, “Well, there were Indian tribes who basically believed they could turn themselves into animals. Maybe he’s telling one of his people’s stories as if he believes it to be true.”
There was a slight pause.
“He’s a Karaoke boy.”
“A Karaoke boy.”
“C-H…. E…. R-O…. K-E-E.”
I was very careful not to laugh. “Cherokee, honey. The word is Cherokee. They are an Indian tribe, Native Americans.”
One of the most fun parts of being a parent has been listening to my young readers try to pronounce the words that they’ve only seen in print. To combine Hal’s mispronunciations with Daryl’s most famous from years ago, it sounds like Jesse Smoke comes from a family of Karaoke Madge-i-cans. (Magicians).