"Back when you used to read to us...."

*sigh* Can one's heart be broken by an earnest sentence from the lips of an innocent nine year old?

Yes.

Practically from birth, I have climbed into bed with the girls and read to them each night. Winnie-the-Pooh (original, of course), Heidi, Black Beauty, Little Women, Anne of Green Gables. We became dear, dear friends with these long before my girls were able to read them for themselves.

And then last year they were each bitten by the bibliovore bug. Side by side they would curl up in their big bed, each with a chapter book, each with a lamp, each to themselves.

They didn't need me to read to them anymore.

I sniffled, I adjusted, I found I had more time to myself. Months went by. And then yesterday my oldest drops the bomb: Back when you used to read to us.....

Ouch.

We were shelving our new books, cataloging them with a nifty new program, when she spied a book I had read to them last year. Frankly, it wasn't a classic and hadn't made much of an impression on me. She dramatically clutched it to her chest and quoted a few favorite passages. Then she discovered another old friend, and another.

Remember when you read this one? Remember? Remember? Back when you used to read to us.....

Still clutching the favored book, she dove under the covers and polished off a few chapters before falling asleep, said book still in her grip.

But before she drifted off, she had one request,

Will you read Anne to us again?

I smiled.

They still need me.