Last night I sent the boys to bed with a promise I'd tuck them in when I was finished helping my daughter with her homework. As soon as I opened their bedroom door here is what I saw:
(None of these photos are staged, cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die, double swear on the Holy Bible).
Zach was reading Shel Silverstein again. Out loud! When I came in he asked me to help him find the poem about the beard so we looked through the glossary together and then he read it over and over, laughing out loud each time as if it was the funniest thing in the world. I just have to share it:
I stretched out on my stomach on the floor and listened to him read and laugh over silly poems about thumbs and jump ropes and boa constrictors. Then he asked me to read to him, so I took the book and read about the magical eraser and the dancing pants and the recipe for a hippopotamus sandwich, feeling warm fuzzies each time he'd chuckle at a funny line. Soon I looked over and he was fast asleep.
I went to bed feeling like the happiest mom in the world.