Would it surprise you to know that the first thing I remember watching on television is Reading Rainbow? As the child of two educators, books were a part of my life from the beginning. Luckily, I never had to wait for a rerun to see a favorite again–my mother bought the books LeVar recommended and read them to my sister and me herself. Favorites like Gila Monsters Meet You at the Airport by Marjorie Weinman Sharmat and Byron Barton, Ox-Cart Man by Donald Hall and Barbara Cooney, and A Chair for My Mother by Vera B. Williams were regulars in our bedtime repertoire.
My favorite, though, was always Gregory the Terrible Eater by Mitchell Sharmat. I loved this story of Gregory, a little goat who shuns his parents’ favorite meals of tires and tin cans in favor of fresh fruits and vegetables. At the time, i.e. the early eighties, I appreciated the humor, and I associated little Gregory with the goats we would visit in the petting zoo. As I a grew, though, so did my appreciation of Gregory and his trials and tribulations; I was a picky eater, too.