Joel and Ferdinand

Anybody remember that children's book all about a bull in Spain who would rather sit and smell the flowers than become a fighting bull? Well the other day Joel and I were out on the town and noticed it in a bookshop. He had never heard of it so I told him I would bring my copy back with me next time I was in New Hampshire.

A week or so later I was back with the much-anticipated book in hand. I was in the middle of cooking syrup for a batch of cream, so we sat on the floor with our backs to the fridge. Joel was curled up against me and hanging over my shoulder.

The text is simple and the pictures delicious. I love this particular book and was expecting Joel to as well. But I was forgetting my Joel. He is a man of action. A man without fear. A doer in the field of life. Strong and straight and very manly... even at the tender age of five.

At first he was entranced, then when Ferdinand first expressed a desire to smell flowers he made a small sound of disgust. Suddenly I realized how little he would appreciate a sensitive soul like Ferdinand's. After that it was just funny. Nothing Ferdinand did was right. Joel was revolted by his wimpiness and indifferent to his plight. The book was not a success.

I suggested they name their new baby bull Ferdinand. He rejected the idea out of hand.