where was I?

Well, that week disappeared in a haze of grading and cool weather. One minute I'm blogging away about fairy tales, the next I'm gone.

I wanted to add to some of what Becca's been saying about her reading girl. I've got an obsessive reader, too. A trip to the library with Nick guarantees that for days, he'll be reading under the covers at night by flashlight, poring over the pages of his "graphic novels" (I think they're just fat comic books--is there an important distinction here?) and hiding them when I come in.

It's that last part that worries me just a little. Like my kids, I was an obsessive reader, reading while dressing, walking, talking, eating...I dropped more than my share of books in the shower, too. In the mornings when my mom would call up the stairs to see if I was ready to go, my answer would always be "Almost!" as I got one leg out of bed, book in hand, to start getting dressed.

So maybe that was deceptive, but it seems on another order from hiding the book and pretending to be asleep, which is what Nick did the other night when, hearing the pages turning, I went into his room at 10:30 to see what was up. (This is a kid whose bedtime is 9:00, and who sleeps until 8:00 am and is still hard to awaken.) He lay there quietly in the dark, breathing deeply while I called his name--quietly, not wanting to awaken him if he really was asleep and I'd just misheard. (Misheard what, though? The cat, reading?)

Fifteen minutes later I heard it again and then I wasn't quite so subtle. I reached under the bedclothes and extracted the book and the flashlight and confiscated them.

And he was fine in the morning, so I mostly let it go. What kind of mom, after all, complains about her kid reading too much? To see the news--and, frankly, to read some of the papers I've been reading lately--American kids are practically allergic to reading, and we should be doing all we can to support it.

Worse things, after all, could be happening. But I'm not buying batteries for the flashlight, I'll tell you that.