well, poop on you

I took the kids to the library on Monday, because, as I tell my husband, I like to use their environment to educate entertain them, and well... it was Monday and I was tired.

As we walked in, we were surprised to see a former preschool classmate of Wyatt's there.  They both got a little giddy and chased a circle around the young adult section until both moms slowed them down to a few wiggles and instead, had them sit on a bench next to each other by the window.

I overheard his friend tell Wyatt "I can read that one to you, just stay here next to me..."

At that time, I was flipping through the books seeing which ones catch my eye (because, yes, I really do judge a book by it's cover, sue me).  I whispered to his mom, who was standing close to me, watching them, "He doesn't really know how to read, does he?"  I sort of said this laughing, I mean, he just turned 5, like Wyatt.

She replied like it's no big deal "Oh, yes... he does."

I must have looked a little stunned by that.

She continued, obviously feeling the need to rewind a bit, "But he was highly motivated by his big sister".

I couldn't get any appropriate response out, all I could think was, 'well, Wyatt has a big brother too, and that doesn't make him want to read.'

Just at that moment I heard Wyatt yelling something to his friend who was still sitting next to him "I don't know how to read, but I know how to write!"

Thank goodness that conversation sort of turned at that moment and they started talking about 'who was taller than who', because the only word Wyatt knows how to write, other than his name, is p-o-o-p.

Apparently, this is how Wyatt is motivated by his big brother.