I think maybe little Miss Gracie has caught on to my kryptonite. She’s figured out all she has to do is yell “Reading!” “Books!” “One more page, Mom!” and my defenses crumble like so much dust in the wind.
Evidence the first:
“Mom, can I stay up late tonight?”
“No, you’ve been tired and cranky all evening.”
“But I wanted to read the next chapter.”
Evidence the second:
After much talk about this ‘Caleb’ person, I decided to quiz Miss HotStuff down. “Gracie, you can’t date until you’re 13.” I know she knows this. She knows that I know that she knows this. But at this point, it’s a joke between us. One I’m awfully fond of, by the way.
“Yeah, I know,” she responds. “He’s not my boyfriend, he’s a friendwho’s a boy.“
I gave her The Look. The one every mama learns when she signs the paperwork for the job. There had been too much talk of this ‘Caleb’ for him to be “just” a friend who just so happens to be a boy. I might not have invented that trick, but boy do I know it.
Clearly, Gracie figured out that even as crazypretty as I am, I am still smarter than I look. All she had to say for herself? “But he reads books, Mom!”
I busted out laughing at her evident excitement. “What kind of books does he read?”
“Uh…I don’t know.”
“Well you have to ask.” Hey – might as well teach her the right questions.
The next day Gracie came running into the kitchen: “He reads chapterbooks, Mom!” How much do I love the age when chapterbooks is The Height of reading?
Evidence the Third:
While talking about benchmarks and age-appropriateness recently, The Ex and I decided that Gracie could start reading Harry Potter when she turned eight. Gracie had been asking and asking, and as much as I wanted to let her in on the series of books against which she would measure all others (at least for a very long time), I didn’t want to rush and get her hooked on something she wouldn’t be mature enough to handle. (You know – since the latter part of the series isn’t all ponies and knock-knock jokes.)
And then Gracie asked again. Her eighth birthday is coming up in two short months – a fact she pointed out to me. When she saw me wavering, the little bookworm couldn’t help but point out, “Mom – J.G. is halfway through it!” Oh, well, if her main competition in school for Smartest Kid In The Class is halfway through it, who am I to stand in her way. The fact that J.G. is cute as a button and more polite than any ten kids put together doesn’t hurt – if I had another Anne and Gilbert situation on my hands, well, I just might hand Gracie the slate myself. heh.
Yes, looking at Miss Gracie’s slick moves has me convinced – that girl knows how to get around her mama. I’ve turned her into my geek chic apprentice. How awesome am I?