I am blessed to have two daughters and one son.
My older daughter tells me everything, kisses my cheek morning and night, and cuddles with me any chance she can get. My younger daughter is 18 months. So . . . yeah, she and I also share dozens of kisses and get plenty of one-on-one time.
And then there's my son.
He used to like me--back when he was two. Now he's an independant six-year-old. No kisses from this dude. No cuddles either. I'm lucky to get a "Bye, Mom!" and a wave when he heads off to school.
However, every night before my son heads up the stairs to bed, he asks me this question: "Mom, can you read me a story?"
He always knows I'll say yes. And he also knows if he asks for a second or third story . . . I will say yes to those, too.
We lay side-by-side on his bed and open whichever picture book he has chosen. We laugh. A lot. And sometimes, when he doesn't even realize he's doing it, he cuddles up to my shoulder.
And that is only one of the many reasons why I love books.
Why do you love books?