Bridger and I turned a corner in our relationship last night. He read a book to me. 'Snow' by P.D. Eastman (which is generationally indicative because he reads that "P dot D dot Eastman"). It has 61 pages. I was so proud of him. Afterwards I told him so. I asked him how he felt about himself, having worked so hard at learning to read. "Yeah, Mom," he said. "I persevered. I know what that word means. I heard you saying that to Holly B at school last week." We talked a little about perseverance and again how proud of him I was. He responded by looking me in the eye and with a very serious look on his face he said, "Yeah, Mom. 'Cause I'm old. And I'm ready for this."
I feel a little old too. I have a son who reads. A new dimension has been entered. I hope I'm as ready as he is.
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