Monday, February 18, 2008

Goodnight, Sweetheart (for the 34th time)

Before my retirement at the ripe old age of 25, I taught high school English. This career choice was based upon my lifelong love of reading, which in turn developed into a love of writing. My choice to retire at age 25 was based upon the desire to be at home with my young children so I could be the one to read them stories and nurture their little souls.

As with most of my life plans, this one has gone a bit awry. Despite having a bookshelf overflowing with literature, my oldest child refuses to read anything except his United States Road Atlas and manuals for electronic appliances. My four-year-old drags out new tractor brochures so we can all learn about the newest developments in hydraulics before bedtime. The six-year-old checks out non-fiction books about spiders and snakes from the school library. Only the toddler can be depended upon to choose a book that I can actually enjoy reading.

Until this morning, that is.

This morning she drug out a book that her brother had picked from the freebie wagon at the library. I usually screen the books before I read them. I flipped through her choice, and although it mentioned the word "monster," I thought I could gloss over that point and concentrate on the images of the cute little bear in his fuzzy footie jammies.

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Awww, isn't he cute all tucked in his bed?

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What a nice little story. Until it reaches this part, where the cute little bear hears a noise and starts imagining that he's being carried away by a scary monster!

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Oh, it gets better.

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What two-year-old wouldn't want to envision these pictures just before nightfall?

I realize I could have stopped reading the story, but the images were already in her head. I thought that perhaps, if I reached the nice conclusion of the story in which the noises turn out to be a snuggly kitty under the bed, it would negate the effect of the scary ghosts and monsters.

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Oh, how I was wrong. So here we are, two hours past bedtime, and she's laying in the hall in the safety of my presence. Soon we will be going to bed for the 34th 35th time.

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Goodnight, sweetheart. Again.

4 comments:

kymom said...

So how did the story end, Erin? LOL. I remember those days of bedtime stories. Mine now prefers to just say his prayers and then get to bed. Problem is, for some reason his prayers are getting longer. He usually starts them now while he's brushing his teeth.

As always, love the pictures you add to your blogs.

~ j.

dlyn said...

Holy cow! Who would think that this would be a good bedtime story? The author must have a deep seated problem with kids - or parents maybe. :)

Anonymous said...

What time did the little sweetie finally go to bed? She is such a doll, Erin.

Love your blog and the great pictures.

Suz

BoufMom9 said...

Is it wrong that I'm laughing a little? Only because I've been there....
My nine year old chose to read the bible every night before bed. Great, right? Until he got to Revelations... he wouldn't go to bed for DAYS in his own bed. (we finally had him sit down with our pastor to talk it all over and that worked.)

 
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