Today Big E, Little F, and I went shopping. We had some gift cards to the Plaza which had been sitting unused for so long we were losing $2.50 a month on our balance due to service charges. We decided to go shopping to see if we could spend the balance down so we would quit paying some company to keep our money.
We blew most of our balance at Sur la Table but then went to Barnes and Noble to spend the rest of it. We were wandering through the children’s books when Little F pointed to a book and said, “My dad, my hero!” Big E and I looked around and saw a book on the display shelf that was titled, My Dad, My Hero. We decided they must have read it in his daycare class this month for Father’s Day. It was still kind of surprising that he recognized it and called it by its name. Little F brought it over to us and Big E flipped through the pages with him. In his own little way of storytelling, Little F told us what was happening on some of the pages. Definitely not all of them, but more than we would have expected. “How many times do you think they read this book to him?” I asked Big E. “How many times did we read Little Blue Truck to him before he was reading along with us, four? Five?” he replied.
I learned to read when I was two, closer to three, but still in my second year. I wish my mom were still around so I could ask her about this. If Little F turns out to be anything like me when I was little… look out, world. We’re in for a wild ride.
PS: Little F and I started out our day by going to the farmer’s market. I bought a lot of fresh fruit including some cherries. We bought a cherry pitter at Sur la Table and pitted some cherries for Little F. He held his little bowl of cherries and said, “Cherries. I love them.” Little F. I love him.