My family and I had a rare occurrence last night: uninterrupted time together. My daughter's plans with a friend fell through, and my husband and I were both home from work. We had finished a lovely dinner and decided to hunker down for a movie night. On the menu: both of the National Treasure movies, a favorite in our family.
My daughter was snuggled in her blanket at the foot of our sectional as we watched together. One of the characters in "National Treasure: Book of Secrets," upon finding the Lost City of Gold, was overcome with excitement about all the learning that the discovery would to lead to. Sarah's response? "That's Mom in a bookstore!"
I love that she identifies me as a lover of books. It's true, I do get a little overly excited. Or, to quote the first movie, "Go one step short of crazy and what do you get? Passionate." That's me about reading in a nutshell. But the fact that my daughter sees it as such an intrinsic part of me? And that she loves books as much as I do, AND loves the Beatles and musical theater, to boot?
*Drops the mic*
My work here is done.