I am not the great parent I was when Aliya was a baby. (When you have recovered from your howls of derisive laughter, you may continue reading) I have to admit that I don't read to Kinsey as much as I did with Aliya. And yet, despite my pitiful parenting, Kinsey still loves to be read to. Especially when she's in a rotten, stinking, cranky, stick hot pokers in your eyes kinda mood. Then she really wants to be read to. But she can't decide what she wants me to read, and she keeps flipping pages, hoping maybe the next page will be more interesting. Which apparently it never is. When I finally tire of the schizophrenic reading regime, she breaks into sobs and writhes on my lap, while huge tears pool on her chin. Then she slithers down off the chair, leaving a big trail of Kinsey slime, and falls to the floor in Aliya-like mock drama and continues crying her little eyes out. Then she calms down, finds another book and brings it to me, and the whole stinking drama begins again.
Tomorrow I start drinking heavily. And I may join the illiteracy movement.
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