Trade Off

I love reading, always have. Many mornings my harried mother would try to rush me along through breakfast. I would be at the table with my cereal, lost down the rabbit hole with Alice or wandering through Wonka's wonderful world. Frustrated, my mother would decree, "No books at breakfast!" and I would reluctantly place my bookmark and set the story aside. Assured that I would now be able to eat at a more reasonable pace, she would resume her morning preparations only to return and see my cereal getting soggy as I read the latest escapades of the World War I flying ace, zooming through the air in his Sopwith Camel. "Enough Snoopy, no more comics. Eat!" and away went the newspaper.

Her bustling would begin anew and she knew that, finally, I would finish breakfast and we could head out the door for school... until she heard me ask, "Mommy, what's malt-o-dex-trose?" "Well, break it down. Dextrose comes from the.. wait a minute. Where did you get that word?" To which I would inevitably reply, "it's right here in the ingredients. There on the back of the box." With an exasperated sigh she would turn the box around, lay it flat on the table and declare breakfast to officially be over and out the door we went. I often told her she would have had less frustrating mornings if she had not taught me to read, but she decided a little morning rush was a small price to pay for literacy. I see it in my own children and am inclined to agree.