
We read together in the afternoon, to settle him down for his nap. We read a great deal of Dr. Seuss — I had acquired those books years ago, long before he was born, and I'm proud to say that they have been so thoroughly enjoyed that they've just about fallen apart. And there was a time where I had The Poky Little Puppy committed to memory (if he was just about to fall asleep, but not quite there, I'd quietly, surreptitiously begin the story again once we reached the end).
When he was old to enough to express a preference, we'd often read Richard Scarry's Cars And Trucks And Things That Go, and share the endless search for Goldbug.
My wife tends to read with him more than I do, these days (to my regret), but there are still a few books (like Dr. Seuss's The Lorax, The Dumb Bunnies and the endlessly amusing Walter The Farting Dog) that he insists only I read.
My son's school has been trying various programs to encourage kids to read (and parents to read with their kids), but I'm not sure how well it's been working. There have been a number of different methods to encourage participation ― first, we were asked to keep a list of books that were read together. Then, we were asked to check boxes on a small card. Now, we're being asked nothing more than to scribble our initials on a series of coupons, and return them each week by a date that's clearly noted. It couldn't be easier. Yet I still see notes from the teacher, two, perhaps three times a week, reminders that students (or parents) aren't participating. It's disappointing.
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