So, Chestnut has taken a magical leap forward this summer, and is
burning through books, reading and reading and reading,
and it is oh so gratifying to watch her go. We're still at the point
where her reading is a little bit transparent to me (sorry to use the
hideous business term), and I get to be near her when she reads and see
what she's doing. Soon, I know, she will get farther away and be
reading books I don't know about and can't keep up with. And I am very
pleased for her that this is her excellent future, but still, I will miss this.
Such as: she took out about six Magic Treehouse books from the library,
and got through one on the subway on our way home, then one more when I
was getting dinner ready. The next day I asked her which one she was on
and she said, "I had to stop reading the pirates one. Too scary."
"You know, they're all very careful not to be too scary. If it seems
scary it's probably about to have something get less scary."
she said, "but it was all scary like they had knives in their teeth."
And the poked her fingers in her teeth. "That would really hurt."
So we had a little demonstration of how they pirates carried their
knives in their jaws, not stuck between individual teeth, and why they
might want to do this (hanging onto the shrouds, sword-fighting, etc
etc) and everything got all straightened out and she could finish the
book without having the horrible creepy feeling that they have knives
slashed up into their gums.
But it made me think, too, that most future misunderstandings are going
to occur far out of my reach. And I know, I know, she'll figure things
out, and what she doesn't figure out now she will eventually (I still
mispronounce Penelope and it took me years to figure out how epitome
was said), but I will miss these little confusions, this part where I
get to hold her metaphorical hand through the first steps.