Monkey loves books. I've said it time and time again in this blog, and it is something that we (M and I) mention with great pride whenever someone asks us to describe our eldest daughter. (When asked to describe our youngest daughter, we've got different things we brag about - trust me).
The other night, as it her wont, she was "reading" to herself after one of us put her to bed. If we let her, she'd do this for hours. Sometimes she does this quietly and gets away with it, and we go back in an hour later to turn off her light only to walk in and find her still wide awake, with a book in her hands.
But most nights she is unable to contain her enthusiasm, and as she reads out loud to herself (narrating the books with stories that are either eerily identical to what we've read to her, or hysterically out of left field) the noise reverberates through the apartment. So we go in to gently remind her that, to sleep, she needs to close her eyes.
The other night, M wandered down to ask Monkey to go to sleep, and when he walked into her room found her sitting upright in bed, with a book on her lap.
She looked up and, after short intake of breath as if startled, she looked at her father and said "oh, you woke me up!"
Mmm hhm, SURE we woke her. She's a funny kid, that one.
No comments:
Post a Comment