Shame on my Rockstar and his Daughter’s Mother, for now this is the conversation I get to endure EVERY TIME we attempt to sit down and read with his Daughter:
Me: OK! Let’s pick a book! How ’bout Dr. Seuss?
Her: *giving me the look of death* NO! I’m NOT reading!
Me: Well, I guess you want to waste all day arguing about it then. You know you have to read for half an hour every day.
Her: I don’t WANNA! I wanna play!
Me: Well, you can go play after this book. Come on, we’ll do every other page. You read one, then I’ll read one.
Her: FINE. But I’m NOT reading for a half hour.
Her: (after closely inspecting whatever book to see how many pages there are) This book is LONG! I’m NOT reading the whole thing!
Me: *maintaining patience. Barely* Just reading. You know, you’d have 5 pages read already if you’d just do it.
Her: (after rolling aroung, crinkling pages, sighing, and finally settling on leaning against me) gjpsodg ue fseegfhaosd
Me: WHAT? If you can’t read it so I can understand you, I’m going to make you read it again.
Her: (noticing the next page is shorter) You read this page, and I’ll read the next page.
Me: *deep breath* If you don’t start reading, I’m going to make you read the WHOLE thing. Read.
After a few pages…
Her: (rubbing eyes and wriggling around irritatingly) I’m not going to read anymore.
Me: Well, I guess we’re going to sit here in silence then. You know you could be playing right now.
Her: Mom doesn’t make me read!
Me: And that’s why you’re failing all your classes. Read.
Her: (after reading one word, she sits in silence, waiting for me to read the next word) I don’t know that word.
Me: Sound it out.
Her: I don’t KNOW it!
Me: Make a sound then. If you make a sound, I’ll help you.
After extensive prodding, we do finally get to the end of the book. And believe me, I am as relieved as she. It’s a good thing I dye my hair, because THIS every weekend will surely turn me grey.