Sarah looked skeptical but headed out, and towards the kitchen. I placed my stack of books on the side table and got down to eye level with Noah. “This stinks, huh?”
Noah’s eyes flared in surprise, then uncertainty filled his gaze. “Yeah…”
“Here’s the thing, I’m always going to be straight with you, okay?”
“Okay…” He fidgeted with the toy plane in his hands, unsure of where I was going with the conversation.
“Ilovereading.” Noah’s face closed down. “But not everyone does.”
“I like TV and playing outside.”
“Those are both super awesome things, and I like them, too.” Noah’s face brightened. “But, sometimes, we have to do things we don’t want to do.” Noah’s lip jutted out in a pout. “I will do everything I can to make reading as fun as possible for you, but at the end of the day, we just gotta get through it, okay?”
Silence.
“I’m also a firm believer in rewarding myself after I do something I don’t want to do. So, how about after our first exercise, we get some of the cookies your grandma is making? And after the second one, we play outside?”
Noah’s eyes traveled from me to the piles of books and back again. “Oh, all right.”
I patted my knees and rose. “Great. First things first, I want you to pick out a book you think you might like to read.”
Noah studied the titles without actually touching the books. Then, he hesitantly reached out, slowly flipping through his options. My heart warmed as I saw his interest pique. He stopped on a yellow one. He looked up, his eyes wide. “Is this one about a fighter?”
A grin pulled at my lips. “It is. Have you ever heard of Muhammad Ali?”
“No. Who is he?”
I took a seat on the couch and patted the cushion next to me. Noah joined me. “He is one of the greatest boxers to ever live. Think you might want to know a little more about him?”
“Yes,” Noah breathed reverently.
“Awesome. Let’s do this.”
The next thirty minutes flew by. There were a fair number of bumps in the road, but all in all, things went well. Noah was motivated enough by wanting to learn about the boxer that he pushed through the frustration of not knowing certain words. I taught him how he could use the surrounding words in a sentence that he did know to figure out the ones he didn’t.
He would be flying through books in no time. “You did great, Noah.”
He gave me a shy smile. “I guess it wasn’tsobad.”
“I’m glad. Now, how about some cookies? I think I can smell them from here.”
“Yes!” Noah cheered, sending one little fist into the air.
“Let’s go.” I followed behind Noah as he charged from the study towards the kitchen, laughing softly as I went.
Sarah was standing at the counter, working on her next batch of dough while the first batch of cookies sat on the cooling rack. “How’d it go?” she asked Noah.
“Great,” he called, skidding to a stop next to her.
“Hop on up here, and you can lick the beater.” A grin spread over Noah’s face, and Sarah bent to lift him up onto the counter. Handing him a beater from the mixer, she tapped his nose, leaving a dusting of flour there. “There you go.”
A memory slammed into me so hard it stole all the air from my lungs. My chest burned as I saw my own mother standing in front of me while I sat on the counter, swinging my legs back and forth.
“One for my girl, and one for me,” my mother said with a smile.
“And maybe a spoonful of batter for me?” I asked, eyes wide with hope.
My mom let out a laugh. “At this rate, you’ll never go to sleep.”
