She reads books to me now. She brought out a dictionary and told me to
“Sit down an be comfable. I a wead a you, ok Mama? Ok lissen to me.
Once upon a time, dere was a wittle guhl. She made a machine. It was vewy big. The End!
You wike a story mama?”
I love her stories. I love that we can have conversations now. They’re disjointed, but it’s cool. Sometimes I need to take the time to remind myself to slow down and ask and talk and listen. I get too wrapped up in my own head. I shouldn’t.
Love her. So much. I hate that we fight and that I make her sad at times. Hhh. But. She still reads to me. I hope she always will.