Little ‘taters have big eyes
The other day, I was happily reading a romance novel, and my littlest dareling came up and sat beside me. He tried to grab for the book, and I said, “No, sweetie. Mommy’s book.”
“Mommy’s book,” says the dareling.
“Yes,” I say. “Mommy’s book.”
The dareling disappears. Pitter-patter of little feet down the hallway. Back comes the dareling with his own romance novel, plucked from my bookshelf. Steamy stepback and all. He settles up next to me, opens the book (upside-down, of course), leafs through the pages, and says proudly, “MY book.”
This made me start thinking, what will I do when my kids get old enough to read the titles of all these books littering the house, let alone the contents? Am I going to keep my shelves of romance novels at their eye level, and continually field questions such as, “Mommy, what’s a kor-tee-san?” or, “What happened to these people’s clothes?” What will I do when they ask to read my books?
Don’t get me wrong. I want my kids to grow up loving reading and loving books, and I don’t have any problem saying, “You’re not old enough for these yet.” But I wonder…what place should my own books have in my house, once dareling literacy sets in? Displayed proudly on shelves, or hidden in unmarked boxes…?
What do you think?