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The Dreamer

My son slunk into the kitchen where I stood beside the sink.

“I had a good dream last night,” he said.

I threw the dish towel toward the counter and bent down to hear the scoop.

A smile took over his face.  “I dreamed I was reading.”

At 9:45 p.m my daughter met me at the top of the stairs bursting with news.  “You’re not going to believe this,” she said.  “While you were gone, buddy read his first sentence.”

I hugged my daughter.  She would have nothing less.   Then I followed her to the book, lit only by a night light, and squinted at the words my son had sounded out an hour earlier.  “Cat can dig.”

I smiled real big and patted the head of my dreamer, already in bed.

Too soon–I figure– he’ll say, “I dreamed I was driving…”

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2 Responses to “The Dreamer”

  1. Linda H says:

    I’m not surprised … he’s a smart little one. This is the beginning of a whole new whole for him. Good going, Buddy!!

  2. Jackie M says:

    You two are raising two amazing children. Before you know it, he’ll be curled up on the couch beside Raven with his nose in a book. Good Job!!

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