Confucius once said “Give a man a fish and feed him for a day… …but teach him to read, and he’ll be able to keep his little brothers occupied for hours.”
Or something like that.
And it’s absolutely true. In my house, we don’t have Readers and Non-Readers; we have Genuine Readers and Readers Who Read Vicariously Through Others. I love it.
Last week, as I headed off to work through the softly falling snow, Dominic the Hunter was sitting in the living room reading his history lesson. Aloud. To James the Fifth, who sat there quietly, absorbing some of the finer points of the history of the Buddhist religion. (There was some ongoing confusion as to whether or not one can move up the reincarnational chain. James thought it unlikely; Dominic was less definitive.)
In the kitchen, The Third Mark was working through his history lesson. Also aloud. And also not alone. David (#4) was there beside him, listening quietly to an account of America’s child labor laws. (OK, not exactly quietly, but as close to quiet as he ever gets. The little guy’s a perpetual motion machine, especially when he’s learning.)
I’m particularly amused by the ways in which their various reading competencies are manifested in their baby-sitti….er, reading styles. Sean has an impressive vocabulary, and is (Chicken? Egg?) a voracious reader. So having him read to you is just about as good as having Papa read to you. …except Sean doesn’t fall asleep. (Oh, and he’s very, very dramatic in his interpretations. Which is very, very fun.)
Dominic’s vocabulary is fair-to-middlin’; his reading, workmanlike; his demeanor, borderline stoic — not too fast; not too slow. Makes me feel like he should read “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” pretty much all the time. (Actually, the “averageness” makes him practically perfect for the younger set. Very managable.)
Mark’s vocabulary is hilarious. It’s either ruthlessly literal or his best-and-fastest guess. (Both of which mean it’s great fun for me as I listen to him). His reading is almost-painfully-slow-but-stubbornly-steady-and-getting-faster-every-day. And a big part of that rapid improvement is the significant chunk of time he spends reading to his younger brothers. Virtue is its own reward!
Nearly every night, as he and the three youngest head downstairs to prepare for bed, he asks if he can read to them while awaiting my eventual arrival. As a “veteran” parent, I realize there’s a fair bit of the ol’ “Embrace Anything That’ll Put Off the Inevitable” going on, but I don’t mind. And I get such a kick out of Cormac clambering desperately for “More Teenteen!” that I allow myself to be played.
Reading to the siblings. It does a family good.