We've fooled around with a lot of different magazines. When people were very small, we loved Babybug, and I mean LOVED. We checked out Ladybug (good), Muse (oh-my-God-how-we-love-this-magazine-still), Spider (nice). I guess we're fans of magazines, sometimes there's nothing more relaxing than dipping in to the short story form, whether fictional or non. And some of us here have taken to stealing The New Yorker when it comes, with special love shown for the caption contest and Shouts and Murmurs.
But this year we've had someone fall in love, true love, with a magazine, one that I associate with hoarding and basements and retirement age. What could I be talking about? Oh yeah, the Grandpa of Magazines:
And yes: the subscription did, in fact, come courtesy of a beloved grandpa.
The issue pictured above had Chestnut patiently explaining, "Don't worry, Mommy, that part of my brain isn't developed yet, that will happen more when I'm 12 or 13." Also opining to another family en route to school, "Well you know, I read an interesting article about that…." I guess it's that she's free of all the weird associations I have with it, and she just goes for what's compelling to her, which is pretty much all of it (though I could have done without her learning about that worm disease you get in fresh water on the African continent, because honestly we have enough to worry about).
But watching her learn about the wider world? It's amazing. We had the kid's version, but it was pandering and dull, stories about Kung Fu Panda, timed with the movie, that made me ill. Too simplistic even when she was 8. But this? This is wonderful, it's like a magic window on the rest of the world. She loves it.
And especially for those kids who just can't get into fiction? This is perfect.