An occasional selection for my nightly bedtime reading with L is One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. She sits on my lap, commenting on pictures, asking with every pause, “Turn the page?” We make our way slowly through the book — it’s not one we read often and she can’t recite any passages from rote as I read, like she can with Fox in Socks or Green Eggs and Ham.
I’m always taken aback at the appropriateness of the ending:
Today is done.
Today was fun.
Tomorrow is another one. …
If we could only keep that in mind daily.