Okay, Bragging Time

My 11 year old son loves books.  We went into a Barnes and Noble that was having their classics collection on sale 3 for 2.  We picked up a Jane Eyre for school and he chose an Aesop's Fables.  Well there, we had two, so we may as well get the free one.  He latched on to a copy of The Metamorphosis and Other Stories.  His mother tried to dissuade him, but I said, "If he thinks it sounds interesting, where's the harm."  Recalling the summer experience with some books that were a trifle advanced, I further opined inwardly ("It isn't as though he's actually going to read it.")

Well what a surprise came in e-mail today when Linda wrote to tell me that he had finished the book and delivered an oral report.  The chief result of which was the question, "Would you still love me if I turned into a giant cockroach." Lady-of-the-House reassured him that it would be so, though hugs and kisses might be in shorter supply--which he readily acknowledged. 

But all I can say is wow--are we raising a reader or what.  Age 11 and he's read (if not mastered) "The Metamorphosis."  A little frightening.


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