I want that!

I love reading. My parents say that when I was 18 months old, I'd carry stacks of books that were almost as high as me over to them. And I would sit there until they had read them all.
Christopher is almost a clone of Brian, but my reading gene apparently managed to sneak through. He loves being read to, so much that he will sometimes cry if you stop before he's heard the required number of Barnyard Dance recitations.
I like taking him to Borders. I like seeing him sit down in front of the shelves, pull books down, and then open them. He stares at them while pouting in concentration, like he's trying really really hard to make the magic work.
And, of course, there's always that small hope that he'll let me glance at my books on the way out.