A couple of days ago, highly anticipating our quiet time, I came out of the nursery and into a serious silence. Hmmmm, fishy. At first, I thought maybe the boys were hiding, but then realized that they probably ditched their books for something more exciting outdoors.
Before I could even open my mouth to holler their names, I stepped out onto the porch to find this:
I love how they pushed the chairs close so that they could read together.
Even Henry will tell the boys to be quiet, 'cause he's reading.
Sneaky. Picture books, eh?? I'll let it slide this time. Tomorrow it's back to War and Peace.
They didn't eve realize I was taking their picture. The Mouse and the Motorcycle is wonderfully engrossing, for this seven year old!
How delightful it is to see them reading books that I, too, enjoyed as a child.
The unexpected warmth of a mid-winter day brought perfect little gifts : the sunlight catching every little blonde hair on their sweet heads, brotherly bonding over books and the quest for quiet achieved and enjoyed.
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