Storytime – it’s kind of like a book club with a really bossy member who gets to choose ALL the books and do ALL the talking.
So I just sit there, politely listening to all this chatting from Mum.
‘Those socks ARE funny, aren’t they?’
‘The tractor has really big wheels, doesn’t it?’
And she’ll do all these sound effects too, the moment there’s a bit of transport or animal on the page, she’ll automatically start doing noises, saying
‘Oh look it’s a moo moo.’
And I’m like, ‘Hey, let’s just call a cow, a cow.’
She even tells other people which books I enjoy, she’ll call Dad over and say,
‘Look, look, she absolutely LOVES this story.’
And, as if to prove it, she’ll get my hand and start hitting the book with it, trying to get me to touch the fuzzy bits.
And Dad’ll go, ‘Mmmm. It’ll be great when she can actually, you know, reach out and touch that herself.’
And Mum’ll sigh at him and continue with the story, in that special primary school voice she does.
‘That’s NOT my panda, it’s too scratchy.’
And I’m glazing over, thinking,
‘No, of course that’s not my panda. You haven’t got me a panda.’
Then the book’ll be finished and Dad’ll go,
‘They’re a bit short those ones, aren’t they?’ as if he’s thinking that there are plenty more reasons why the panda couldn’t be mine.
And then Mum’ll save these great books for bedtime; she’ll read something fabulous and then just turn the light off straight away without any discussion. And I’m left there in the darkness just thinking,
‘But why is the shrew wearing the cockatoo’s shoes?’