[ Disclaimer: I am 100% bragging about my child in this post. ]
Last week Jamie came up to me and said:
“I’m illiterate. I can’t read and I can’t write.”
Which was true. He could “only write a little bit” (he’s pretty good at writing his letters and his name is quite legible when it’s written) and couldn’t read.
But that’s not true anymore (and really it wasn’t totally true at the time).
While we were waiting for Maria to finish her violin lesson (those Mississippi Stop-Stop’s don’t just play like magic and come out of thin air) Jamie and I were bored. He said he wanted to read some stuff so I started writing letters and asking him what sounds they made. He knew them all. Well, 25 of them. Y tripped him up. So I started putting the letters together…ya know…like writing words. He sounded them out really well.
This kid surprises me. He needed to be told once that “oo” makes the oo sound and after that, he was able to remember and read “book,” “look,” and “took.” He remembers things like crazy. He’s like a little dictionary. When he hears a word and hears it defined, he can tell you what it means 2 weeks later. With the correct definition. As it is defined in a dictionary.
Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t reading hard words like “elephant” and “fabulous.” It was “mat,” “pat,” “mop,” and “rat.” Not difficult words, no. But he’s 4.
And a smart little bugger.
But when Maria quizzed him later, he said, “No, Maria. I only read once a year.”
There you have it.