Wonka

Me: Arlo do something to show how excited you are about finishing your first proper book!
Arlo: Umm, okay how about THIS?
Me: Click.

***

Today is a momentous day. We have finished reading Arlo's FIRST EVER BOOK. I mean, obviously we've read the Spot books and Winnie the Witch and the Gruffalo and the likes, but Charlie & The Chocolate Factory was his first ever non picture- book book and I have to say it went very, very well.

He did spend quite large chunks of time howking up his nose ("Arlo, can you stop picking your nose for 5 minutes and listen to the story?", "I just can't seem to stop, Mummy!") and watching a cobweb on the celing swing back and forth in the draft from the windows, but APART from those two very important things (as I'm sure you will agree) he was pretty focussed on it all.

I am quite surprised. And wondering if this means the end to picture books for him / us. I asked him what he wanted to do next and he said 'more like this, please' so I went to see what I could find on the bookshelves. Turns out it is just more Roald Dahl at this point in time. I gave him the choice of Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, Danny Champion of the World, The Fantastic Mr Fox or James and the Giant Peach. He decided on Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator to "get Charlie out of the way". I can see his rationale. I just hope Charlie becomes less of a milk sop and gets a bit more oomph about him in this tale!

Reminds me of the story my Mum told me every night for about a year when I was wee - about a little girl and her granny. The little girl was a bit of a goody two shoes (I loved her because she was CLEARLY based on me, even though I was anything but a goody two shoes). She lived with her granny in a little white house on a hill and they had a red car that they always bombed about in doing good deeds and being on adventures in.

In the end my Mum got so sick of the little girl (who had no name...) that one night, when I was all tucked up in bed - my teddy cuddled in beside me, my little face full of anticipation of the next tale about the 'good' me, the story unfurled to a nasty climax where the little red car skidded on some ice and flew off the mountain, crashing to the ground below.

DEAD. The end.

And people say Roald Dahl was dark!