My boys all love books. I don’t know how we managed it, but I’m glad.
One of my favorite parts of their love is when they act out or pretend to be part of the story. Ricky and Billy will gather a bag of toys and stomp through the house muttering about stealing Christmas from the Whos in Whoville. Or at times put on their capes and masks, talk in Spanish accents (bad ones), and pretend they are Skippy Jon Jones.
I shop library sales for great deals on books and I have a stash in my closet from which I pull a book every now and then. I recently got out The Berenstain Bears and the Ghost Walk, so I should not have been surprised when Ricky led me to my room this afternoon. He had created his own Ghost Walk (in my bedroom, not his, thank you very much). He had signs pointing the way, a scary alligator section, a Skippy Jon Jones display, a monster guarding the entrance, Scooby Snacks (tinker toys) all over the floor to step on, a ghost and I’m sure I’m forgetting something.
The ghost was my favorite. I saw the blanket thrown over something and asked, “Who’s under the blanket?” Ricky answered, “A ghost.” But then he put his hand to his mouth and whispered, “It is really Sock Monkey, but he’s being a ghost.” The boy is too cute.
Ricky even willingly cleaned it all up before bed time. I love that kid.
