Harrison, my youngest, is ten now, and I thought he’d be old enough to appreciate the subtle humor. He does, which is fun because he and I are the only ones laughing. Everyone else is just too mature and sophisticated, I guess. (Although, those mature, sophisticated family members nonchalantly hang around whenever I read out loud.)
I dramatically indicated that my throat was suffering.
“PLEASE?,” he pleaded with his puppy eyes.
“At least get me some water,” I choked out.
He did. We read two more chapters.