I stopped home for a very rushed lunch today (two servings of Ramen noodles, chicken flavor, high on the salt, low on the nutrition. Only seven days to blow my New Year’s resolution to eat healthier. That must be some kind of record.) While there, my nearly-3-year-old son asked me to play with him. Sure, why not? I have at least 2 or 3 minutes before I need to be back at work.
Well, he decides that the game to play is with his nearly-5-year-old sister’s flash cards. So he pulls one out, looks at the picture, points at the word and says, “Daddy, what say that?”
Now, those of you with children may understand my reaction. Those without children but planning to have some will eventually find out. Those who don’t have children and never will, well, I don’t know if there’s a way to adequately describe my astonishment and delight. It’s kinda like describing a rainbow to a blind man.
See, I got a decent education. I came from an educated family. We had books all over the house, and I grew up taking literacy for granted. I’m still shocked (but a lot more empathic than I used to be) when I come across a post-adolescent non-reader. There are so many steps we take on the path to reading that, once we know how, we forget about. The very first step is realizing that those funny little squiggles on the page actually have meaning. I don’t remember realizing this for myself, but last year I witnessed my daughter’s revelation. Just like my son, she pointed to the book and said, “Daddy’s what’s that say?” And just like with my son, I was astounded, delighted, and proud beyond all belief. My daughter is recognizing that words exist! Quick, call the grandparents! Alert the media! Call a press conference and get it on the evening news! In my moment of ecstasy, I am quite sure that no other child has ever reached this epiphany, that mine is the brightest of the bright. Just hand her the Nobel Prize now and get years of anticipation over with early.
As I said, if you are a parent, you understand. And if you are not, at this point you probably think I am an incredibly pompous and arrogant individual. But just wait till *you* have kids.
The next step is one that my son hasn’t made yet, but I’m anticipating soon. See, three days after my daughter said “Daddy, what’s that say?”, my wife was reading Sarah “Alice in Wonderland” for her bedtime story. (Another point of pride…my kids refuse to go to bed without a story being read to them. And once I leave the room, my daughter takes books into her bed and falls asleep “reading “ them.) So after finishing the chapter, my wife comes downstairs and tells me that Sarah is mildly upset. Why?, say I. Because she wants to read the story for herself and can’t, says my wife.
Another milestone! The *desire* to read. And this is one that some never get. I think it may come from environment. I grew up surrounded by books, as did my wife. Both of my parents were teachers. I was read to all the time, and my parents were always in the middle of a book. Some don’t have that, and grow up without realizing how much reading has to offer.
So I go upstairs to read a little more to Sarah. As I sit down, she points to the front cover of the book and says, “What’s his name?” I answered, “That’s the Cheshire Cat.” And then she says, “Where’s his word?”
I nearly passed out.
In one week, this child has determined that 1) words have meaning, 2) she will someday be able to decipher that meaning, and 3) every object has a word associated with it.
And to think that I assumed that after seeing her born, everything else would be emotionally anticlimactic. Holy cow.
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