She recently came down with it. One day she was reading out loud, stumbling over words, and the next she lay curled up on the couch head buried in a book, reading silently to herself, oblivious to the world around her.
She asks me could she have the book next to her on the table while she ate? Knowing that my answer will spawn a lifetime of reading while eating (known through my own experience) I say yes. She neglects her meal, having a stronger appetite for the words than the food.
I stand by proudly, watching the reader in her as it emerges full force: the complete absorption in the story, the intensity of concentration.
Another parent might angrily point to the uneaten food, and the book at the table. But not me! I’m thrilled.
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