There are few better experiences than sitting on the couch with one of my kids, with my arm around them as they read about Venus fly traps, sea otters, Captain Underpants or any one of a hundred random things.
To help them with the difficult words.
To hear the inflection in their voices.
To explain the concepts that don’t make sense to an 8-year-old.
To see them looking up for approval.
To note their development.
To feel them cuddle in.
To be honest, I don’t do it often enough, but I was reminded again that they aren’t this age for long and the day will come when they will cower silently to their rooms to read alone instead of sitting with their dad.
There’s nothing quite like reading with your kids.