My 11 year old son has stolen my life and much as I can see that he is loving it, I really want it back.
It’s the obsessive book reading thing. Mr11 has been reading Matthew Reilly novels all school holidays and he’s getting through them at a rate of knots.
First thing in the morning, he’s lying in bed reading. Mid-morning, he’s sprawled on the sofa reading. Lunchtime might find him splayed out in the sun on the trampoline reading. In the afternoon and evenings, he’s reading. He’s got through five books already.
It shoulda been meeeeeee.
When I was a girl, I spent so much time reading, and reading, and reading. And then I’d read more more. Even being a teenager and discovering boys didn’t daunt me, I just went for bookish boys. My first proper boyfriend is now a tutor in English at Cambridge, doncha know?
Mornings, lunchtimes, afternoons, evenings and sometimes all night too. I read and read and read.
And now, whilst he’s reading, I seem to be emptying dishwashers, chasing small children round the house, folding laundry, ironing, writing shopping lists, cooking, washing up etc etc etc And then the same again tomorrow.
Not that I want to discourage my dear neglected middle son in his reading… but I wish I could get my reading life back!
Willing to share, son.
