In certain sections of this town, especially the Quarter, GPS goes rogue and leaves me passing by the same bars and coffee shops until I finally give up and try to walk to my destination. Walking is usually safer given that many here think driving is, in fact, a contact sport. Okay. We’ll blame the tourists and to hell with the lesson plates on the vehicles which have performed maneuvers the likes of which I have never seen in previous locations.

My “maplessness” is metaphorical these days. I have a son. A new one. He still has the new baby smell–we don’t have to get that new baby air freshener for the car, yet. We adopted him, and he has spun our whole family, the trunk and the limbs, into fits of silliness and love.

Although I am eager not to make a mistake, I make more than the lion’s share daily. I’m clumsy to boot, so the kid should probably wear full padding when we are together. We have started to read to him. At the moment our reading sessions are sporadic. I did have the grandparents record themselves reading those Hallmark storybooks, which causes the kid to laugh. Huh. Huh. Yes, that’s how he laughs. However, the kid really doesn’t know what a book is, yet. The good doctor (my mister) and I love to read. We pray our love of reading transfers to our son and that once the love begins someone or something doesn’t break his book-loving heart.

As a former teacher, I have met so many students who did not carry their love of reading past the picture book stage. Maybe this is why I am so excited about World Book Night coming up in April. Let’s hope we rekindle the reading romance for the brokenhearted.

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