Ever since we began reading The Tale of Peter Rabbit from Sylvie's childhood book, Jackson has been hooked. Shortly after he was born, Sylvie, my mother's cousin, sent this book, that had been hers as a little girl. I kept the worn, red book in the nursery for when the right moment came along. Late last year, we started to read it. I wanted him to be ready because the book is delicate with age. Each page is fragile and the spine is weak. But the story is as vivid to him as if it were hot of the press. He fell so deeply in love with the story, we read it each night before bed. Every. Single. Night. And then someone sent him a tiny, abridged, board book of Peter Rabbit's story and not only would we have to read the board book, but then we would have to follow it up with the original. There was a lot of Beatrix Potter in our house during those months. But he devoured it. He memorized nearly every word. Finishing sentences, counting currant buns, shouting phrases and adding sou...
