Upon tiptoeing to his room, I found that his little sister was cuddled up next to him in bed. The blanket was being happily shared, and she listened, enraptured as he read aloud to her. It was a moment of pure sweetness.
Which is why I bolted downstairs as quickly and quietly as possible. (I got to drink my coffee alone!)
Then I prepared breakfast and called upstairs. The padding feet were quick to respond, and they fell upon the toast with the fury of ravenous children.
"Did you read to your sister this morning?" I asked, smiling down on my eldest.
"Yeff," my son answered around a mouthful of Raisin Bran.
"And what book were you reading?"
"It was about the Sill Wear."
"The... what?"
"The SILL WEAR, Mommy."
"Uh-huh."
I didn't question him further. Asking him to repeat twice apparently insults his status as a Reader Who Doesn't Need Help, so I let it go and finished prepping the bags for a day at homeschool co-op. But when I dashed upstairs to help in the search for a Sock That No One Can Find But Mom, I glanced at the book lying on the bed.
It was a Magic Treehouse Book. Awww.
Civil War on Sunday.
Uh....
Less Awwww. More Errrrr.
I think I'll lay out "Amelia Bedelia" for tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment