Read me a bear story

I was tucking Bagel into bed tonight, and she was thanking me for cleaning her room. I am surprised she noticed. It makes me happy that she is grateful.


As she lays in bed, we sing the "SKINNAMARINK" song from the Elephant show (1980's) then we go at a few rounds of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Then she wants to read a Bernstein Bear book, I am beat, and those damn Dr. Seuss books are LONG. So I ask her to read to me. (we had already read "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish" AND "Green Eggs and Ham" today)


As Bagel reads her story, which means on each page, she tells me what the picture means to her, I listen and I think of days when I lived on Marble street. When I would lay in my top bunk bed, and as I read my books, on my Rainbow Brite sheets, with my kitten Punkie right next to me (yes he would climb the bunk ladder) I could hear, my sister, Francis, below me reading.


Not words though. Because this was before she could read. But we always went to bed with a stack of books. She would make up the story as she saw it on the pages. Sometimes a simple short story lasted 20 minutes because of Francis' imagination.


I miss those days. Of hearing Francis that is. Oh don't worry, if your reading this for the first time. She is alive and well a ripe 28 years old. But because of her muscle disorder, Dystonia, I haven't heard her speak in over 15 years. Be sure to read my "One Twisted Story" post explaining.


It's just sometimes, when I am doing things with the kids. I totally go back in time, I can see my mom doing the same thing with us. It's a great way to bring back memories of so long ago.