Hello. Usually these posts start with some weak apology about how I’m
crap and not reading with my kid and how this blog is really about not reading with the kid. But this one is not the post of a slacker apologist.
I’ve got news for you. I have been reading with the kid. I really have.
I’ve read with monkey-face whilst teaching her how to hold a pen.
I’ve read letters with MF whilst she’s been trying to write letters.
I’ve read with MF whilst writing her letter to Father Christmas for her (which she signed – kind of.)
I’ve read with MF when waiting in NHS waiting rooms for GP appointments, chest xrays and repeat appointments.
I’ve read with Monkeyface after noone could stand to watch animations of the Gruffalo, the Gruffalo’s Child and Lost and Found any more – and then MF wanted me to read the books instead.
I’ve read recipes to her whilst trying to make Christmas cakes, large and small.
I’ve read to her in the car on the way to see family and I’ve read to her to try to distract her from coughing in bed.
We’ve read numbers on the advent calendar to persuade her to take her medicine and we read the bus numbers whilst we waited for hours to bring her back from Hospital.
Bless her heart, we have read and read and read.
And played a bit of Angry Birds. She’s rubbish.