|Here's the bit where you all comment on how irritatingly perfect he is, please and thank you.|
Anywhoodle - for the first time & in a sure sign of early Oxford acceptance, Master P toddled up to me today with book in hand - a Dr. Seuss, which as we all know is a mere step away from Dickens - and, via his new point n' grunt style of communication, made it abundantly clear that he wanted me to read the book to him. As I thumbed through those much-nibbled cardboard pages, he gazed at the book with what I will force myself to describe un-ironically as delight. Sheer, perfect delight.
Seriously. Y'all who don't love books go on and skip ahead to the next "Kardashian" re-run (not that I won't be watching too, but I'm sternly making a point here)(Ahem)(Parentheses), but for us capital "R" Readers - I can't adequately convey my own joy in that moment. Something along the lines of when my husband gave in to my abusiv... er, enthusiastic literacy campaign, times one squillion.
I will live to regret these words once Master P is an older toddler and enlists the "But just one more book, Mom!!!" going-to-sleep defense. And maybe I'm just in a bookish way this week, between the Goodreads joining and the hilarious re-read I can't put down, again, but - for now, this is a favorite Smug Mummy first.