Last night, I was reading to my son. We read a chapter of a book about a kid who goes to dragon slayer’s school, then topped it off with a Richard Scarry story. He can recognize a few words, but doesn’t read on his own yet; so when I started reading, I pointed to the words as I went along, sometimes pausing for a split second between them.
When I reached the bottom of the page, my son grabbed the book back, and got down off my lap. “Daddy,” he said, as he headed to the shelf for another book, “I think this book is too hard for you.”