StoryLiar: Part 1
My summer reading problem goes something like this:
I love to read. I don’t get a lot of time to read. Jesse loves to read. Jesse has all the time in the world to read. Jesse, like his father before him, wants me to enjoy ALL of the things he enjoys, including his there-are-never-too-many-portals-in-the-epic-where-the-elf-teams-up-with-the-wither-to-battle-the-intergalactic-nether-in-a-post-apocalyptic-world literature. He finishes a book and hands it over. Your turn, he says. Not my turn, I respond, and hand it back, without a second thought until about a month ago when I started wondering whether this was good mothering.
A good mother should be pleased her son wants her to share in his reading enjoyment. A good mother should welcome this inlet into his world. A good mother should lay down her reading preferences in service of her child. You will miss these days, I’ve been told.
Which is why I agreed to read The Screaming Staircase – an epic tale of teenage ghost hunters. And I have. On the couch. When Jess is watching.
And when he’s not watching, I sneak the book I’m really reading.
Jesse was a little put out by how long it was taking me to read his book – 57 pages in a week is not something to write home about – but he was happy I was reading it at all, as was I. I was happy he was happy. I was happy we had something to talk about beyond his other passion (video games). The altruism, meager as it was, also worked wonders for my mothering ego, and I planned to continue at my steady pace and finish the book by mid-July.
The problem was my other book. It was totally engrossing – a real page turner. I didn’t hear Jesse come up the stairs. I didn’t hear him open the bedroom door. He saw me before I saw him, and by that time, his death stare was traveling from my contraband book to my guilty face.
He pointed at me from across the bedroom. “That’s a real jerk move, Mom!”
True, but even Jerk Mom needs to address language.
“First, I don’t appreciate that expression. Second, I get it. Third, you’re right, and I’m sorry.”
He left the room. I kept reading (my book, not his) – a Louise Penny mystery. Have you read these? So good. Reserve the first one at your local library than return here tomorrow for StoryLiar: Part 2.
