I woke up on Sunday morning to a familiar sound, "Da da!" Was it the cry of a 20th century European art movement? No, it was my daughter calling to me from her bedroom. I took a peek at the alarm clock as I got out of bed. 8:00am. Hey, that's not too bad. Sometimes she wakes me up a lot earlier.
I opened her bedroom door and found her sitting up in bed, with her bedside lamp turned on, and a book sitting in her lap. She beamed at me.
"Did you wake up earlier and just decide to read to yourself for a while?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah! My book is great! It's about a magic treehouse! Want me to read to you?"
"Yes. Yes I do."
Ahhhh, we're finally at the day that I knew would eventually arrive. Daisy's ability to read has finally improved to the point where she can read something complex enough to be interesting. Her reading has attained escape velocity, leaving planet Dr. Seuss far behind.
Today she woke up sneezing and coughing with a low fever so we kept her home from school. She spent the first two hours happily sitting in bed, poring through stories about the magic treehouse. This made it pretty easy to keep an eye on her while still getting in a full workday.
This parenting thing just gets easier and easier! By the time she's a teenager, I can't imagine I'll have any problems at all!