Last night when my little Drama Queen burst into my room with a stack of six Magic Tree House books, plopped herself next to me on the bed, and offered (read: demanded) to read them ALL to me so she could put a checkmark next to "Reading Aloud" on her homework planner, I sighed and put down the book I had been reading-- up until that moment, anyway-- with no distractions.
"Fine," I said while covertly re-opening my book and sneakily searching for the place where I had left off, "but just one, okay?" I know, right? Hey. What can I say? My children and their homework come before me and my selfish alone time with a book. Even if I have been dying to read that book for weeks. Even if I am at a SUPER exciting part in the story. These little sacrifices come with the territory, that's all I'm saying. Plus if I didn't let her read to me right then, there was a good possibility I wouldn't be able to get her into bed before Gilmore Girls started.
She grabbed the book at the top of the stack-- I think it was Dingoes at Dinnertime or maybe Good Morning, Gorillas, I can't be sure-- and opened it with a flourish. She opened her mouth to read, but nothing came out. Well, that was unusual. Unprecedented, even. She wrinkled her little nose as she thumbed through the first few pages of the book. After a moment she threw the book on the bed, let out a huge sigh, and announced, "Okay, wait, Momma. Let me get a book without a bunch of chapters. I can't read these ones."
As she jumped off the bed and pirouetted (because why walk when you can dance, right?) across the floor, heading for the door-- leaving the ENTIRE STACK OF BOOKS ON MY BED, I might add, the little slob-- I said to her in my best, I Am Totally Into This Kick-Ass Book I'm Reading But I Want To Be Supportive And Not The Mommy Who Squashes Her Child's Fragile Ego So She Has To Go To Therapy When She Hits Adulthood voice (because I'm a giver, y'all), "Oh, come on! You are getting to be such a good little reader! You could totally read those books to me, silly girl, no problem. Come back and try it."
She skidded to a stop and looked at me as if I had just suggested she read aloud War and Peace, Les Miserables, and that book by Dostoevsky, then give a full report and bake a triple layer chocolate fudge cake for dessert.
"Um, yeah," she said in her best DUH! voice, "but that's just... you know... too much work."
I threw Tigers at Twilight at her as she spun and skipped out the door.
5 Comments:
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Not-So-Normal-Mom commented:
Maybe she is a bit lazy about reading, but she sure isn't lazy about dancing! I'm sure she loves reading, but there's a limit to what our little ones want to do with their free time!
- » 2/01/2006 3:41 PM
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Cat commented:
I know, right?! It is completely unacceptabe.
- » 2/01/2006 3:41 PM
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WILLIAM commented:
You and your kids are funny
- » 2/01/2006 6:31 PM
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Amy commented:
tigers at twilight?
- » 2/02/2006 1:55 PM
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Amy commented:
Ahem. Continued.
Tigers at Twilight? I must check out these magic treehouse books. That is a great title. And you are all kindsa great with your hyphens.- » 2/02/2006 1:56 PM