We started reading this one before he was 2 years old. And when he was about 2 1/2, he went through a phase of insisting on reading it TO ME.
Now at bedtime, he tells me to close my eyes, and that it’s not my lucky day… while he picks this book for my sake. He delights in seeing my “surprise” that it IS, in fact, my lucky day. That we get to once again read The Going to Bed Book.
You don’t know when you have children what book will be the favorite. What object will be the supreme bringer of comfort (his pillow made by auntie Sara).
And then, when such a favorite emerges, it becomes sacred. It is woven into the tapestry of a childhood. Into the time that you were Mother to this Child. This precious fleeting moment.
It’s so beautiful, it kinda makes you want to share it with everyone.