Last year for Christmas, my parents got Will a copy of Shel Silverstein's poetry book "With Everything On It." Will and I both enjoyed the heck out of it, reading a little every night. Over a year later Will will occasionally mention a poem from the book "Mom, remember "A Mouse in This House? that guy was crazy!" or "Why would anyone want a kitchen sink on their hot dog???" Since he loved that book, I picked up a copy of "Where the Sidewalk Ends" for Christmas this year.
I never read much of Shel Silverstein growing up. I was really big on books, but poetry never crossed my radar. Now I'm glad I didn't, because we get to enjoy it together, and Will has already pointed out to me that there's another book called "A Light in the Attic." Yep, we'll be getting that one too.
But the real joy is that all on his own, Will's decided to start writing poems himself. He busies himself with paper and pen at the kitchen table coming up with things like "Swim with me, swim with me, swim with me baby." Some of them don't make any sense, like "Do you like this new toy? Is it your best? It's mine." But who cares? This kid is writing on his own, sentences and everything. Sure there's some backwards letters, and some of it is spelled phonetically. But my goodness, is this Mom proud today!