He is getting a head start for the night and sounding it out himself (I think he made it to Seamus Finnigan's name on this page: "Who's See-ah-muss, Mom?"), but we read it together each night. We're mostly through The Sorcerer's Stone and he's all about Harry Potter. I actually almost get choked up, which is probably lame, but there you have it. My parents raised me on such a rich diet of reading -- just constantly, always reading -- that it was an integral part of life. We talked stories, especially my dad and me. We loved reading. And fantasy was the diet of much of my formative years. I'm probably preaching to the choir here, as folks who take the time to read this caption are probably by definition fellow readers, but I just can't fathom that a sizable portion of kids his age have no books in their houses. No books. We have no room for all the books.
He actually fell asleep on my shoulder after today's chapter. That hasn't happened in a while. <3