We read a lot in our house.
All day long you launch books at my head or hold them right in front of my face, just in case I didn't hear you insisting on reading a "BUK, BUK!"
You love old books, new books, and even the same books over and over. For one favorite of yours, you say the first word before I even open the cover.
Before bedtime we snuggle in your room and read. I usually set the limit to 4 or 5 books, but you are one devious little story-lover.
When we get near the end of a book, you quickly shut it and grab another... as if not finishing it means it doesn't count.
If you grab a book and hop on my lap only to realize that you've chosen a really short, one-word-per-page book, you instantly change your mind and go hunting for a longer story.
Last night after our 6th or 7th book, I told you to choose just one more to be our last book of the night.
You nodded and mumbled "LAST. BUK."
Off you went in search of the perfect book to prolong our story time.
You dug through the shelves and the stacks on the floor, searching high and low.
You brought me the Bible.
Well played, baby girl, well played.
Kisses from one bookworm to another,