Book Time With My Son

One of my favorite parts of the day is reading to my three year old son before bed.  It is a time when the magic of books comes alive for the both of us.  He used to pick any three books he wanted but learning rather quickly that I have a difficult time saying no when it comes to him and books, three books eventually became five and on some nights, like last night, he succeeds in convincing me that he needs “just one more book” or he won’t be able to fall asleep.  With a pile of books, a bowl of seasonal fruit – now apples – and a glass of water we cuddle in bed and with my son’s head on my shoulder and my hand rubbing his head I read.  My son is always full of questions, wanting at times to know more than the authors share, so together we speculate on the lives of the characters outside of the book.  I enjoy following the patterns of his thoughts, marveling at the connections he makes and the places his own imagination carries him.  There are some books that I have read more times than I can count because he loves them so much.  With those books, I can stop mid way through a sentence and my son will continue reading because he knows the words by heart.  Sometimes I joke around and change the words.  My son laughs at me – oh how I love his laugh – he calls me silly and then corrects me.

Book time is a special time for the both of us, a time when we can retreat from the rest of the world and enjoy an altered reality, the kind that can only be found in books.  Already, my son is entering new worlds, encountering people different from himself and having adventures beyond what he is accustomed to in his everyday life.   Together, with a book between us, time slows down, though I am painfully aware that it can never be completely stopped.  Though he will in time grow up and book time will become a thing of the past, I hope he will always carry with him the love of reading he now has.