My little S-Man (21 months) brings me story book, after story book,  after story book all. day. long. It’s easily his passion right now, to hear a good book, or 50.

I’ve never enjoyed reading books, growing up, I did everything I could to avoid it. Now (when time allows) I read “real life” only. Those books must have good tips on photography, or how to cook dinner, or must answer my Q’s and A’s about….something. So why doesn’t my son understand I may honestly vomit if I have to read the tractor book again?

Where is the manual for my little toddlers? What makes them happiest, saddest? How can I get them to eat, or pray or ideally both? Why don’t they want their own space, “they are always around” (one of my favorite lines from Big Daddy)? Will they ever be grateful? How do I teach them grace and compassion? Why do they want to read the same book over and over again? Will I ever have enough time?

Probably not.

But I can choose and make time to read my little man another one of his favorite make-believe stories about the little Elmo that could. And I hope somewhere between Sesame Street and the Farmer in the Dell, I find the real life story of us, no manual needed.