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More forward movement in the development of my granddaughter, M, who used to ask me to read to her whenever we FaceTimed during her breakfast (loyal readers know she lives in Japan with her two lovely chaperones, my son and daughter-in-law). A couple of weeks ago when M called, I spied a book on the table.
“Would you like me to read to you and Monkey-Monkey?” she asked. (Monkey-Monkey, her puppet fiancé, lives with me in New York when we’re not in Tokyo.)
“Oh!” I said, “that would be lov—”
“Actually,” said M, interrupting me, “do you mind if I read to myself?” Then, thoughtfully, she reminded us, “It won’t matter, because Monkey-Monkey can hear me in his head. Right, Monkey-Monkey?”
“Really?” I said, before recovering. “Oh, of course!” said Monkey-Monkey, whose mind-reading powers were new to me.
Then, we had the pleasure of watching M reading at the breakfast table as she ate, an activity familiar to me ever since I can remember—including the present day. An engrossing book and a delicious meal! What could be better?
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Now, a curious reader wonders about the best tools for washing your face…
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