I’ve never much been one for bedtime stories.
By the time bedtime arrived, especially when my kids were small, reading a book was more of a chore than a sweet nighttime routine. I was always exhausted and as ready for bed as they were.
Besides, reading books in our house always meant questions. My children engage in books – and for that I am grateful – but this has never allowed for a quiet story before sleep.
Earlier in the day though, I am happy to read. With children now aged 8 and 10, I am incredibly thankful that they still enjoy having an occasional book read to them.
Plus now, they sometimes read them to me.
The kids and I contented ourselves with pencil crayons and colouring books while waiting for family to arrive at the campground.
It was a treasured moment with children that are quickly growing and gathering new interests. It was shared time, quiet conversation, and the sweet simplicity of colouring within the lines.
Sure, I played a few video games growing up, mainly Pac-Man and Tetris. Not like my son does, though. He plays video games the way I swore I’d never let a kid play video games.
We limit his time, of course, but his obsession is beyond my comprehension.
It concerns me how much time he cares to spend playing, researching, and talking about video games. The one consolation is this: The talking he does is with us. I am incredibly grateful that, at ten, he is happy to share his interests with us.
And so, even though video games aren’t my thing, I listen.