For some reason, I had gotten it into my head that I was not that much of a reader as I child. Now, compared to some kids I knew, that was definitely true, but I actually realized the other day that was just not true.
Lori takes the kids to the Wolforth library on a regular basis. Emily is entered into a contest this summer to compete against other kids her age. They are competing based on the number of pages read. She initially set herself a goal of 1,000 pages but I am pretty sure that was too low for her and she will be adjusting it. I may be wrong, but I think that she’s already up to around 700 pages. Crazy!
At any rate, last week they missed their chance to go during the day while I am a work so we made a trip in the evening so that I got to go with them. The library is pretty small but the girl and her brothers seemed to have a great time looking around the juvenile section (Is is just me or does that seem to have a negative connotation, as in juvenile delinquent?) I browsed over Emily’s shoulder and then started to wander around the library and began to see series of books that I recognized: Hank, the Cowdog, Judy Blume books, Beverly Clearly, etc. Then I started remember all the choose your own adventure books I would read until I had covered every last page. I remembered a series of books that I owned and think are somewhere in boxes still in the garage about character traits we can learn from historical figures (e.g., patience from Louis Pasteur). It got me a little excited and I am going to have to find those for Emily to have a look at.
Emily already has her own favorites, like the Cam Jansen books, Jack and Annie (the Magic Treehouse) books, and Junie B. Jones. I’m proud of the girl, especially when I walk into her room after laying her down for the night and see her halfway through a chapter book.