This is the first book that I read to Dylan, back before he was even interested in flicking through picture books; “Where’s my Cow?”. In the story, Sam Vimes makes a point of getting home from work every day in time to read his son the same story, called “Where’s my Cow?”.
We read this book together every day for nearly a year, Dylan got to the point where he could recite the pages from memory, with the voices, giving a damn good impression of reading. He’d point at Young Sam, and say it was him, and at Vimes - a gritty middle-aged man losing his hair (!) - and say it was me.
Over the last couple of years his collection of books has expanded, he likes to have Dr. Seuss read to him, and read his “Postman Pat” and “Charlie and Lola” books. He asks for us to read “Where’s my Cow?” less and less.
The last time we read it, he was surprised that Vimes didn’t really look like me. This time, he was confused because he doesn’t have any of the toys in the room in the story - so how could it be about him? He reads the author on the inside page and, even though he can spell his and my names, reads them out as “Dylan and Aaron”. It’s a major lump of credulity left over from being two.
Sadly, I don’t think there are many readings of this book left before he truly realises it’s a book by someone else, about other people. I think we’ll read it sparingly.
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