The Dangers of Reading, In 3 Parts

Part the First:

Daughter: Look, Mom. There are ten chapters, and I'm at chapter eight!
Me: Great!
Daughter: It's page 72!
Me: Fabulous.
Daughter: There's only this much to go!
Me: You're a reading fiend!
Daughter: Sssshhhhhhh! I'm READING.

***
Part the Second:

[in a local bookstore, with TV playing scary music in one corner...]
Daughter, clamping herself to my leg: What IS that?
Me: It's a TV. It's playing a movie.
Daughter: Ohhhh. I thought it was a dementor.

***
Part the Third:

Me: What specials did you have today?
Daughter: Library. I NEED an ipod touch!

It Was a Young Newbery Back Then!

I'm working on a new novel. As background reading I reread Scott O'Dell's Island of the Blue Dolphins, for the first time in *cough, indistinct* years. In the process, I re-loved these things about it: the stakes are high; understatement does much of the work; action and pathos blend so well. But I also loved that I could still hear the voice of my school teacher who read it aloud to us, a chapter an afternoon. I don't remember his name any more, but I do remember that I was furious he wouldn't let me take the book home and just finish it. He knew I'd bring it back. He knew I'd read it overnight. And (being a teacher, I guess) he knew it would be better if I had to wait. It was torture to have to wait for a single chapter a day, but I loved it.

I had eye surgery when I was ten or so, twice. As an avid reader, I also remember being frustrated at not being allowed to read. And I do remember my mother reading to me from Enid Blyton's Famous Five series, which was my fave. And I remember how mad I was when she had to go make a start on dinner, instead of reading another chapter. We found out this morning that, like Son, Daughter also needs glasses, and prismatic lenses, as we suspected. (Hey, at least they'll both appear to be bookish types!) I'm glad there are so many alternatives to eye surgery these days, after *cough, indistinct* years.

Still, I enjoyed Daughter's take at swim classes this week: I can't see. I need gobbles.

Fair Enough!

Son, immediately on entering the house at 3.20pm: "Great, can we eat?"
Me, perplexed: "Why are you so hungry?"
Son, as if it's obvious: "Because I just spent seven hours in an elementary school!"


Ironically, in addition to a school-provided snack, a home-provided lunch, and a PTO-provided carmel apple (at the afternoon reading celebration), I figured it was indeed a fair comment. After all, I had only spent two hours in the same elementary school, and was ... hungry too. And pooped. People who spend all day in elementary schools but who are not themselves elementary school students: Kudos to you! Me, I'd have to keep pockets full of chocolate. But I had my first lovely session with a second grader (not my own) to begin story development with them for their young author stories they will write after the winter break. Forty five minutes flew by, and second grader number one has a map and story notes. Her story is going to be a hit!