Anyone who ever reads this blog knows that I LOVE books. Poor baby Ben came out of the womb and was immediately subjected to my reading him Sylvia Plath's poetry and other non-child oriented works of fiction. When he was only a few months old he used to lay in bed with me and let me read him all sorts of children's books. He was fascinated with the pictures and seemed to have an endless attention span. Then he decided he didn't want to be read to anymore and that he preferred to sit with the books by himself and flip through the pages unhindered.So why is it that this morning he all of a sudden decided that he now wants me to read story books to him from beginning to end and not just once or twice, but multiple times? And who told him that the best way to ask your mother to read to you is to thrust the book violently at her face and grunt?