When my daughter Lauren was born back in 2002 we did what every parent does with a precious newborn. We fought. That period of time should be filed under "shit sandwich and other thing that you don't want to eat again". Luckily we made it through intact and still sleeping under the same roof.
My mom is reading recovery teacher. She works in a school system where the parents have little involvement with their children's education and even less with helping them develop a love of reading. She has a vanity plate that says "Read2AKid". So half out of fear of my mother and half out of fear that we would raise a kid that the local illiterate slattern of town, we read to her.
We read and we read. Shell Silverstein, Dr. Suess, Penthouse Letters, just kidding you sicko. I got a crash-course-master's-degree in children's books. Some sucked. Some really sucked, and some I did enjoy reading. The ones I really enjoyed were the ones that my squirmy kid sat still for and even participated in. I also enjoyed the ones that the artwork was interesting to both my and my daughter. A rare occurrence, but a pleasure all the same.
Finally when Lauren was old enough to crawl/toddle, I would ask her if she wanted pick a book. Guess what was numero uno? Pat the Bunny. Pat the Freakin Bunny. Man, she loved it. I loved and hated it. It was easy read, but boring as hell for me. Lauren was thrilled with it, poking her finger in mummy's ring, feeling daddy's scratchy face and smelling fabic softener were always big with her. What simple hit!
Pat the Bunny has been printed since 1940, and according to some statistics, number 4 all-time on the children's best seller list. Another hit with Lauren was Tails, by Matthew Van Fleet. This book was even easier to read. Nothing like a rhyming book that rolls easily off a tired parent's tongue. Lauren was enthralled by the moving parts and the scratch and sniff. We burned through three copies or more of each of these.
Now, I am a NCSU grad. We had received multiple copies of Hello Mr. Wuf. I am a huge fan of my school. My bride, bless her rotten confused heart is a UNC grad. The race to brainwash our daughter was on. No way was I going to let her go to the dark side without a fight. I tried reading this book to her. I wanted it very much to be her favorite book. Wasn't happening. It is a good book, just not one my daughter was putting in her top 50. Lauren was bright enough to know that Daddy loved reading this book to her. I finally gave up reading the story line and made up my own stories, age appropriate of course. I left out what happened with daddy and the co-ed in the library and other such ribald tales of beer induced behavior.
Still, how was I to turn my child into a rabid UNC-hating, David Thompson, Jimmy V lover? I was already catching glimpses of her on my wife's camera wearing Tar-Heel paraphernalia that was quietly removed upon my arrival after work. Hmmmm.
The idea popped in while I was watching Archie Miller snag a rebound. The announcer said he "came off the floor like a pop-up book to get that rebound". That was it. My daughter loved the pop-up books, the moving parts, the different textures, scratch and sniff, and pull tabs. Why not combine my love of NC State and her love of these interactive books and make something we both would love to read?
One of my closest friends in college was a fantastic cartoon artist. He parents, not wanting him to waste his time in college, discouraged (refused to pay) for him to pursue his passion. They ordered him into the textile world. A booming business. That boom was the sound of bottom falling out and all the companies shutting their doors as they hightailed it across the boarder. I began conversation with Mark "Hootie" Bowman about the dream. 6 years later, he finally took me serious.
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