My fun words book

• Description

Hello Friend’s My First Words Pop-up Fun Book

Every page is a pop-up surprise and a fun learning experience. This pillow soft padded foam cover book is hardbound and handy with 5 spreads of gloss laminated pop-ups. Watch your little one giggle with joy by turning every page and being greeted by a pop-up of various places, people, and animals. The book lists everyday things, places, and even circus animals introducing your child to the nouns that they are surrounded with on a daily basis in real life. The book also introduces your child to certain verbs with captivating illustrations that are accurately labeled for easy recognition. Pop in for some pop-up learning fun.

Pop up surprise

What sets this book apart are the pop-ups at the top of each page, making it a page-turner and introducing your little ones to their first words with glee and surprise.

Captivating, bold, and fun illustrations

Each spread is a colorful adventure with a bunch of images that represent each word in an illustrated, vibrant, fun, and friendly way on a gloss laminated spread.

Easy image recognition

The colorful illustrations are accurately labeled and facilitate easy image recognition so your child can name these nouns even in real life.

Handy and child friendly

The book is small enough to fit in your child's tiny hands. Furthermore, the pillow-soft padded cover, hardbound pages, and laminated spreads ensure durability and make the book child friendly.

Vocabulary building

Learning their first words with images will build your child's vocabulary extensively preparing your little scholars for a bright future at an early age.

100% Safe 

All the products have been tested safe with 100% conformity to European child safety testing parameters.

"I have a special sense of humor." Interview with a writer – Read Together. Navigator in the World of Books”

– How do you feel about the fact that Russian publishers call your collections telebooks?

- Do you mean something like comics?

- Yes.

- In fact, my writings are not really comics. Yes, I tell my stories in a slightly different way, using a lot of drawings. But that's how my style shows up.

– At the same time, your work is very instructive. Can they be called textbooks?

- They are more like a guidebook. After all, I always take a serious topic and reveal it from a funny point of view, with the help of many jokes and various funny words. But behind laughter for me there is always something deep, for example, the relationship between children and parents.

- However, there are a lot of dubious examples in your books. Of course, you, as a writer, can afford to say to a child: “Baby, compared to a worm, you are very happy.” But not every parent will be able to say the same to his son or daughter. Many adults are simply afraid to lose their authority… What do you think about it?

- In fact, as a parent (I have my own children) in France, I can talk to them in exactly the same way, compare them with worms, for example. It’s just that my special sense of humor is manifested in this, I won’t hide it, it is quite specific for the French as well. But my children like it, as it helps to cross some boundaries, reveal different topics and talk about important things without a stone face.

- And where is the line that a parent should not cross under any circumstances?

– It seems to me that there should always be mutual respect and love between a parent and a child. Of course, you can and even need to talk about different topics. But there should never be any vulgarity or violence between a child and a parent. I think the parent should just choose a certain register of language, that is, a special way of communication with which he can talk with the child about everything. But he must choose it according to the age of the child.

– For example, what should be the “register” for six years?

- You can talk about anything with a six-year-old child, but the message, that is, our message, should be very simple. So that the baby can understand it immediately either with the heart or mind.

- That is why you described the moment of the birth of a child in just three pictures in the “Book about who parents are”: there is a super spermatozoon, a super egg cell and a mysterious fuss under the covers?

- Partly because of this, and also because the book about parents is not devoted to the complex issue of conception. Perhaps someday I will write a separate essay on this topic, but the plot itself requires special attention.

– Are the statistics given in The Book That Will Make You the Happiest in the World true? Is she really number one in sales?

– Yes, it was this book of mine that became a bestseller in France. Like many others, it has been translated into 20 languages, in these countries my writings sell especially well. But other statistics are included in the book solely for fun.

- Your "Book that teaches you to love books" on the Russian Internet has already been disassembled into quotes and individual pictures. Did the same thing happen to her in France?

- Yes, she's incredibly popular. My readers in France also take a lot of photos and scans in order to spread the pages they particularly like on social networks. And there are a lot of dialogues around this work. Quotes are passed from mouth to mouth. Mothers retell what they read to each other.

– Why do you think adults send each other pictures that tell each other that reading is great?

- Actually, I'm very glad that this is happening. Even though my books are a lot of fun, my readers should benefit from them. And it happens exactly at the moment when they exchange these pictures. They discuss a lot, thereby improving relations with each other, realizing the benefits of books and understanding what happiness is.

– And for several years now, the problem of children's reading has been an acute problem in Russia. Judging by your book, does it also exist in France?

– Yes, this problem is significant for France as well, since the book today has a lot of competitors: computers, television, and so on and so forth. Decreased interest in reading among children can be observed in all countries. And here I see my personal mission on Earth: to bring them back to their roots and teach them to love books. After all, reading can be completely supplemented by computer games, one does not contradict the other.

– Are you familiar with the scandalous books of Pernilla Stahlfelt, who writes about love, poop, death and the fact that God can look like an astronaut?

- Unfortunately, I have not heard of this writer. But in my writings I try not to hurt or condemn anyone. For example, in a book about parents, I try to be very friendly and not introduce controversial elements, because everyone can have their own beliefs, beliefs and religious views. I don't want to invade this space. But I don't blame the author either. If she has a desire to present God as an astronaut, this is her right, and she can use it, and her parents, who are shocked by this, can simply not buy her book. This is the freedom of action and self-expression.

Read online "Funny stories for children (collection)", Mikhail Zoshchenko - LitRes

History teacher

The history teacher calls me differently than usual. He pronounces my last name in an unpleasant tone. He deliberately squeaks and squeals, pronouncing my last name. And then all the students also begin to squeak and squeal, mimicking the teacher.

I don't like being called like that. But I don't know what to do to prevent this from happening.

I stand at the desk and answer the lesson. I answer pretty well. But in the lesson there is the word "banquet".

– What is a banquet? the teacher asks me.

I know perfectly well what a banquet is. This is lunch, food, a solemn meeting at the table, in a restaurant. But I do not know whether such an explanation can be given in relation to great historical people. Isn't this too small an explanation in terms of historical events?

I am silent.

- Huh? the teacher asks, screeching. And in this "ah" I hear mockery and disdain for me.

And hearing this "a", the students also begin to squeal.

The history teacher waves at me. And gives me a deuce. At the end of the lesson, I run after the teacher. I catch up with him on the stairs. I'm so excited that I can't utter a word. I have a fever.

Seeing me like this, the teacher says:

– At the end of the term, I will ask you again. Let's get three.

“That's not what I'm talking about,” I say. – If you call me like that again, then I… I…

– What? What? the teacher says.

“I will spit on you,” I mutter.

- What did you say? the teacher shouts ominously. And, grabbing my hand, he pulls me upstairs to the director's room. But suddenly he lets me go. He says: Go to class.

I go to class and wait for the director to come and kick me out of the gymnasium. But the director does not come.

A few days later the history teacher calls me to the blackboard.

He quietly pronounces my last name. And when the students start screaming out of habit, the teacher hits the table with his fist and shouts to them:

- Silence!

There is total silence in the classroom. I mutter the task, but think of something else. I think of this teacher who didn't complain to the principal and called me in a different way than before. I look at him and tears form in my eyes.

The teacher says:

Don't worry. At least you know the three.

He thought that I had tears in my eyes because I did not know the lesson well.

Thunderstorm

With my sister Lelya, I walk across the field and pick flowers.

I pick yellow flowers.

Lyolya collects blue ones.

Behind us is the younger sister Yulia. She picks white flowers.

We deliberately collect this in such a way that it would be more interesting to collect.

Suddenly Lyolya says:

- Gentlemen, look what a cloud.

We are looking at the sky. Silently a terrible cloud is approaching. She's so black that everything gets dark around her. She crawls like a monster, enveloping the whole sky.

Lyolya says:

- Hurry home. Now there will be a terrible thunderstorm.

We are running home. But we run towards the cloud. Right into the jaws of this monster.

The wind blows suddenly. It spins everything around us.

Dust is rising. Flying dry grass. And the bushes and trees bend.

Whatever the spirit has, we run home.

Now large drops of rain are falling on our heads.

Terrible lightning and even more terrible thunder shake us. I fall to the ground and, jumping up, run again. I run like a tiger is chasing me.

It's close to home.

I look back. Lyolya drags Yulya by the hand. Julia is crying.

Another hundred steps and I'm on the porch.

On the porch Lyolya scolds me why I lost my yellow bunch. But I didn't lose it, I abandoned it.

I say:

- Since there is such a thunderstorm, why do we need bouquets?

Huddled together, we sit on the bed.

Terrible thunder shakes our dacha.

Rain drumming on the windows and roof.

Nothing is visible from the rain.

Grandma's

We are visiting grandma. We sit at the table. Lunch is served.

Our grandma is sitting next to grandpa. Grandfather is fat, overweight. He looks like a lion. Grandma looks like a lioness.

A lion and a lioness are sitting at a table.

I keep looking at my grandmother. This is my mother's mother. She has gray hair. And a dark, surprisingly beautiful face. Mom said that in her youth she was an extraordinary beauty.

They bring a bowl of soup.

This is not interesting. I probably won't eat this.

But they bring pies. It's still nothing.

Grandfather pours the soup himself.

As I serve my plate, I say to my grandfather:

- Just one drop for me.

Grandpa holds a pouring spoon over my plate. He drips one drop of soup into my plate.

I look at this drop in embarrassment.

Everyone laughs.

Grandfather says:

- He asked for one drop himself. So I fulfilled his request.

I didn't want soup, but for some reason I'm offended. I almost cry.

Grandma says:

Grandpa was joking. Give me your plate, I'll pour it.

I don't give my plate and don't touch the pies.

Grandfather says to my mother:

- This is a bad child. He doesn't understand jokes.

Mom says to me:

- Well, smile at Grandpa. Answer him something.

I glare at my grandfather. I quietly tell him:

– I will never come to you again...

It’s not my fault

We sit at the table and eat pancakes.

Suddenly my father takes my plate and starts eating my pancakes. I roar.

Father with glasses. He has a serious look. Beard. However, he laughs. He says:

- See how greedy he is. He is sorry for one pancake for his father.

I say:

– One pancake, please eat. I thought you were eating everything.

They bring soup. I say:

- Dad, do you want my soup?

Dad says:

- No, I'll wait until they bring sweets. Now, if you give me sweets, then you are really a good boy.

Thinking that for sweet cranberry jelly with milk, I say:

– Please. You can eat my sweets.

Suddenly they bring a cream to which I am not indifferent.

Pushing my saucer of cream towards my father, I say:

– Please eat if you are so greedy.

The father frowns and leaves the table.

Mother says:

- Go to your father and ask for forgiveness.

I say:

- I won't go. I am not guilty.

I leave the table without touching a sweet.

In the evening, when I am lying in bed, my father comes. He has my saucer of cream in his hands.

Father says:

- Well, why didn't you eat your cream?

I say:

- Dad, let's eat it in half. Why should we quarrel over this?

Father kisses me and spoons cream.

Chrolophyll

Only two subjects are of interest to me - zoology and botany. The rest is not.

However, history is also interesting to me, but not according to the book we are going through.

I am very upset that I do not study well. But I don't know what needs to be done to prevent this from happening.

I even got a C in botany. And I know this subject very well. I read many books and even made a herbarium - an album in which leaves, flowers and herbs are pasted.

Botany teacher tells something in class. Then he says:

- Why are the leaves green? Who knows?

Silence in the classroom.

“I will give an A to someone who knows,” the teacher says.

I know why the leaves are green, but I am silent. I don't want to be an upstart.

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