I loved Dahl, both the adult and childrens' books, so when C pounced on them I was thrilled. (And, honestly, the possibility of not reading Grover Sleeps Over for the seventy-eleventh time? Priceless.) I got them out of my room and put them in his bookcase, and he touched the covers and looked at the illustrations and was wowed that he was big enough now to read chapter books.
He helped me out by saying what the first letter was on each page.
The story grabbed him quickly and soon he was turning the pages, asking questions and gaping at the illustrations. (Bless you, Quentin Blake!) He didn't want to finish it another night (What will happen to the duck-people?) so we read the whole thing and now he's in bed, re-telling bits of it to the cat between huge yawns.
I always thought books were magical. I was one of those kids who spent afternoons in the library, curled up on the musty corduroy floor cushions, reading three books at once and pestering the librarians for more.
I'm thrilled he loves them too.
4 comments:
Oh, I don't think I've read that one - I'll have to check it out! I was one of those kids, too. And I used to walk home from the library with a stack of books, the top one open so I could read as I walked.
One summer, it was rainy and miserable, so I spent a lot of time rearranging my room to pretend that my bed was the Dawn Treader. Good times!
I love your blog. It always makes me misty.
Some books are friends forever, aren't they?
I had forgotten about this one. I bet Oldest would love this. We're all about chapter books now.
Isn't it wonderful that kids learn to love books. Mine loves them.
My mum heard a woman say to her son today: "Oh, you don't like books, so I'm going to buy you a movie instead."
My mother was so cross she bought my son a very big book to make up for it and raved on about it all afternoon to me!
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