It is his favorite sentence right now.
But this is about me.
Each summer I read a classic.
I LOVE to read.
But I rarely take the time
to read some of the great older books.
They require too much thought.
I have 4 kids, remember?
So, the first day of summer break I picked the book.
It's possibly the ugliest copy of Wuthering Heights ever.
I got it free.
It had many typos in it.
And I did not enjoy it.
I was told I would like it.
By my mom, one of my friends and many others.
I started the first day of summer break.
And just finished yesterday.
The only other classic I didn't enjoy was Jane Eyre.
Something must be wrong with me.
Most people love that book too.
There's always next summer.
And at least I can say
I did it.