Today, Little Man carried his case of Winnie the Pooh books (10 tiny board books in a toddler friendly carrying case) into the living room, where he sat down across from me on the floor. He started pulling them out one by one and going through them, using his limited but growing vocabulary to tell me what was going on for each page.
Using a string of exclamations and "up up up-pah!" he narrated Tigger finding a new house with more bouncing room.
"Uh-oh, down!" he told me as Eeyore's house fell down and Pooh, Piglet and Owl helped him build it again.
"Bubbles, bubbles!" he said as Roo got his bath from Kanga.
And at the end of each mini-book he held his hands out, opened palmed and said, "aw done!"
We sat for almost an hour and went through all his books twice, and he told me their stories using his favorite words and hand gestures. I couldn't tell you what I was doing when Little Man sat down with his books. Whatever it was, it quickly became abandoned and forgotten as I realized with joy that he was returning the favor and reading to me.
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