Mommy Monday

I love to read. The ability to dive into a new book and get to know characters from another time, place, or even galaxy is so much fun. You can escape your life for a moment. Luckily, my child has picked up on this as well.

My little Gryffindor does her namesake proud when she (literally) dives into her box of books and flips through the pages.

It makes me heart swell with pride and love when she toddles over to me, hands me and book, and then plops down into my lap.

That is, until I realize it’s the same freaking book she brought me five seconds ago.

And we’ve already read this frakking book

TWELVE.

STINKING.

TIMES.

Don’t get me wrong, I want Hermione to totally be one of those kids that will be reading by the time she’s 18 months, reciting Shakespeare at 2 years, and running Microsoft by preschool. But if reading about Rarity’s part-time gig at the Carousel Boutique is going to get her there, I may have a breakdown.

The girl has a TON of books. For reals. This is literally only an eighth of her book collection:

Mommy Monday Book (1)

 

But what does she choose for me to read to her every two minutes? The same three books:

Mommy Monday Book (2)

 

Before you recite your “I-can’t-believe-you-don’t-love-reading-to-your-child” guilt trip-laden speech on me, I think its awesome my kid loves books. And I love reading to her (and, more importantly, that she actually sits still long enough for me to read her a book) but one can only read about LadyBug Girl’s stuffed animals with excitement so many times before wanting to throw the book out the window.

I’ve tried cycling out her books and putting new ones in, but somehow the “Elite Three” (as Huff the Hubs and I refer to them) always seem to pop back up. They’re like Professor Copperfield’s Miracle Legumes; you can’t hide them!

Sigh.

I guess they are worse things that my daughter could be doing. She could be finger painting with poo or refuse to eat anything except French fries or try to ride the dog like a horse. I’m sure this, like everything else, is just a phase. I’ll just wait for it to pass while I snuggle Huff the Babe and read No David! for the 719,283,475th time.

 

 

What about your kid? Is there a book they want you to read all the time? An episode of Daniel Tiger that’s on a constant loop? A song that’s their favorite but sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you?

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