Tuesday, February 21, 2012

The Bookworm and the Ham

My six-year-old niece Rita read the whole of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe yesterday.  She’s so much like me it’s alarming (except she was shocked to hear I hadn't learned to read until first grade).  She “goes deaf” when she reads and forgets to eat, and she reads in odd places and positions, like so:

She read Superfudge today, and started on another Beverly Cleary before bedtime.  She also made two potholders (woven using one of those little peg looms), painted a suncatcher, played four rounds of Busytown (a Richard Scary boardgame) and drew a picture.  And talked about Star Wars for three full hours.  I was repeatedly queried on what should be done with Darth Vader, and what particular scenes (in all three of the old movies, and the first of the new) meant. 

Four year old Brad, on the other hand, is a total ham.  He kept insisting I take his picture and then he wanted to see what he looked like—the boy would never have survived in the age of film cameras.  He also loves to be kissed by his mommy and me—and who can help it, since he resembles the Norman Rockwell ideal of the pink-cheeked innocent lad, all frogs and snails and puppy-dog tails, or in his case, puppy-dog eyes…

When Brad got home from school today, he told Rita (who has a week off) that her potholders were beautiful, and said “good job!” without being prompted.  When they aren’t fighting, the two siblings are quite fond (they’ll spontaneously hug each other, peaceably paint pictures together, and so forth), but when one gets angry at the other, I never heard such dramatics.

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