H has always been a bit of a bookworm, pretty much from as soon as she could sit up and open one – and as is well documented on here, I’ve a terrible book addiction – I can’t stop buying them for her (Savvy Mummys have a £1.99 deal on a Paddington Bear book at the moment… I couldn’t resist).
As her imagination grows, so does the experience of reading books. Occasionally she’ll ask us to read, but more often than not at the moment she’ll read out loud to herself, remembering stories and talking about what’s going on.
Way way back before she was born, Shaun bought a book called ‘Rabbits Day’ which has a rabbit on some ribbon that you insert into various parts of the story – now when we read it she’ll have imaginary conversations between the rabbit and his mummy at the end – which is all quite cute and also quite funny when you realise she’s basing a lot of it on her everyday experience.
At the weekend I bought her the George & Hollie and the Magic Carry Potties book which she sat down and read this morning to herself – so okay, she’s had this book since Sunday, read it the first time Sunday night. Tuesday morning and she knows the story (okay, it’s not the most difficult one, but still…) and she’s reciting it and getting it right. It scares me in a good way.
Later this morning she got one of the Rufus Butler Seder scanimation books, and read it aloud to herself – and okay, they’re not difficult either, but she’s taking it all in – we read it twice on Saturday, and haven’t since. (those books are great, argh, I’ve just seen a new Wizard of Oz one.. must resist…)
We’ve even bought some old kids classics for our Kindles, just in case of emergency. I can’t see her running out of books very soon though. I think she’s probably got enough to keep her going until she’s at least sixteen…