The Gaul of My Son!

Obelix is the dashing fellow in the stripey blue pants.

The baton is being passed.

Or in this case the magic potion.

Now the kids are in the habit of reading in bed for fifteen minutes to half an hour before lights out they’ve been plowing through the books.  It seems almost every week we’re buying Master7 & Miss8 a new one to share – Andy Griffiths has been extremely popular with both of them.

With nothing left to read and the weekly shop five days away, I pulled out one of my treasured possessions for Master7 to look at – an Asterix book with three great stories in it which Tracey bought me a couple of years ago for my birthday.

He ate it up.

Several times over the weekend I found him sitting on his bed reading and grinning.

But tonight: disaster!

“I’ve finished,” he said sadly.

“You can grab some Asterix books from your school library,” I told him. “There’s heaps of them. I’m sure they’ll have some.”

“They don’t,” he said. Apparently he’s already looked. I’ve suggested he ask the librarian to help him with his search.

“But no worries if they don’t have any,” I told him. “I know the local library has them so we’ll head down this week and grab a couple.” This seemed to cheer him up. I know it’s a comic, but it’s such a clever and funny comic. Plus it’s full of educational stuff – like how Romans are crazy and nothing says ‘party’ like a roasted boar.

Reading has been such a constant companion to me since I first learned the alphabet. When I was in primary school I would bike it to the local library every Saturday and come home with as many books as my library card would let me. Back then, in grades 4 to 7, it was Alfred Hitchcock’s Three Investigators who I most remember coveting.

“Who’s your favourite character?” I asked Master7 in the kitchen tonight while he grabbed a sip of water before lights out.

“Obelix,” he said after a considered pause. “He reminds me of you, Dad,” he grinned, then ran off to bed.

Aw, that’s so swee…..

“Hey! Come back here you little bugger,” I called after him. “I’m not fat!”

I’m big boned.


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