I don’t understand why any child is not an avid reader. There, I’ve said it. I devoured words as a child… although it is actually unlikely this was from birth and I should not try and force Oliver Twist in front of toddlers!
I love reading.
Whirling Deverish, like most children, loves screens! Tablet, phone, tv…. As do I. However, in my hypocritical not-a-parent-but-I-know-everything-about-parenting head, I am trying to encourage her to read more.
I have ‘loaned’ Whirling Dervish my complete Chronicles of Narnia and as she’s horse-mad am trying to retrieve my copy of Black Beauty from my Mum’s, but if, on suggesting any of these I hear “well, I’ve seen the DVD” I WILL SCREAM! I fear she will never share my love of Little Women.
She is not my daughter and yet, it seems, a part of me wants her to be a bit like me, to share something that is ‘ours’. How the Dickens (!) did that creep in to my way of thinking and feeling?
As an aside, this takes me back to when my first nephew was born (now 12) and declaring to my sister that I would only be buying him traditional wooden toys or those with educational value for the entirety of his (or my) life…. I think I may have given him cash towards a gaming computer on the last birthday!