Read it!

Yesterday, Gus and I journeyed to the library to pick up a new truckload of picture books (preferably about trucks, helicopters and tractors - the children's librarian sees us coming and helps us pile them on) and this morning Gus reveled in our haul - so much so, he couldn't be bothered to put his big boy pants on first...he sat and cooed and ahhed and turned pages and giggled to himself and pointed and marveled at the early favorites...

I've written much about how my brain will recoil at the thought of reading "Little Red Hen" or "Red Truck" for the third dozenth time in a single morning, but when I sit back and see this, I change my tune.

I remember reading quietly with my Mom (the newspaper and books, usually after lunch) and I clearly remember this whole world beyond my physical world opening up when I first began reading words and later books. I remember reading quickly far beyond my grade and venturing into the adult section of our library, when I could barely clear the librarian's front desk to check them out.

I remember long lazy afternoons on my belly, with a book perched before me on a frilly pillow I had made in home economy class.
I remember reading "Gone with the Wind" for the first time on a beach in Italy then reading it almost ever summer thereafter all through my adolescent years.
I resort to books whenever I need respite. I feel lost without one nearby. I adore books. I'm not particularly choosy. I'll read whatever comes along, sometimes good, sometimes just good enough.

It is my sincere wish for Gus to find that world beyond his tangible world and it is my task to show him the way.
And read whenever it is possible.
Just not "Red Truck"

Again.