This morning, Mister Man slept in a little, and he didn’t have to be to daycare until 9, so I let him. When I took Little Miss down for breakfast, I peeked in but he was still sleeping.
A few minutes later, I went upstairs and saw that he was sitting up in bed. As I pushed his door open to say good morning, he pulled the covers over something and looked up guiltily. “Good morning, Mom,” he told me peeking up at me to see if I’d noticed.
I smiled at him. “Kiddo, if you want to read in the morning after you wake up, that’s ok.“
“Yep. It isn’t ok to read at night when you’re supposed to be sleeping, but if you wake up and have time to read before you need to get up and go, that’s perfectly fine.“
His face visibly brightened. “Oh, good!” And he uncovered Good Morning Gorilla – his latest Magic Treehouse book – and hopped out of bed.
Apparently me taking away the book that he was reading the other night about forty-five minutes after bedtime sunk in. And now he’s hiding his reading. I remember those days. I remember hiding the flashlight under the covers and reading. I remember feeling like I was getting away with something.
And now? Now I’m the mom, hiding the smile at the joy my child finds in reading, so happy that this is something he sees as a pleasure and not something to fear. I can only hope that he feels the same way two and five and ten years from now.