A Good Story

My usually active son has discovered  the escape that a book offers. Recently, he was sitting on a chair with his nose buried in a Diary of the Wimpy Kid book while his sister ran around outside. Being a conscientious parent, I urged him to go outside and play on such a nice day. He told me he wanted to read his book instead. I was caught in such a strong moment of Déjà vu that I had to stare at him a moment. He’d become me, and I’d become my mother.

I discovered books in the sixth grade and submerged myself to the exclusion of all other activities. My mother would constantly tell me to go outside. I’d simply read faster, trying to finish before I’d have to put it down. When she insisted I go outside, I carried my book outside and sat on the front porch, reading. When she needed to punish me, she took away my book or wouldn’t bring me to the library. Even today, a good story is an addiction for me. If a book grabs my attention, I will stay up all night until I know how it all turns out for the characters. I need to know as badly as I need to breathe.

So, I swore I’d never punish my children by taking away books, but now I find myself in the predicament of finding an alternative. Any form of exercise that wears them out and causes them to go to bed on time is encouraged.

My daughter can read several books a night and not have enough. I distract her by making up stories. Right now Cara the pirate has an exciting adventure each night in the bath tub as she finds new ways to get away from her sworn enemy catscratch. Andrew’s not so easy to distract, though I do catch him listening in from the next room, hanging onto every word, though he’d never admit it.

So since I can’t go back on my promise to myself, I’m looking for ideas for distractions. I’ve decided that it’s the best way to go. While I’m waiting for this fantastic adventure-filled distraction to plop into my conscious, I’ll just watch him read his books with a smile. It’s nice to know he shares my fascination with a good story.