The End

Part of the deal between me and my boys book group was that we would choose a book none of us had read and read it together. I liked the opportunity that our pact gave me to react as I read aloud-- I often asked questions and made predictions as we went, and the boys could see the model of how a pretty good reader interacts with a text in real time.

This morning when we gathered for our last session though, I had to make a confession. "Guys," I started as I poured the hot chocolate, "I have to be honest. I read to the end of the book yesterday."

They were a little outraged, but the cocoa made it somewhat better. "I know, I know," I said, "but let me tell you why I did it. I was afraid I was going to cry at the end, and I wanted to be prepared."

"Oh no!" cried one. "Are you prepared?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted, "but I'm really glad I know what's coming."

With that, they were silent, until they, too, knew what was coming.

And, yes, there were a few tears.

Imperfect

We're running out of time in my boy's reading group, and so the kids have to read a chapter on their own every night so we can finish the book. The deal is if they do it and remember their copy of the book, they get a snack. In the last few days, roughly half of them have earned the reward.

"Guys!" I said this morning to the other six, "what's going on?"

"I don't care about the snack," answered one. "I only like it when you read to us."

"Thank you," I said. "In a perfect world," I continued, "we would have time for me to read the whole book out loud, but with the snow and weather delays, we don't have time for that."

"In a perfect world," one of the other boys said in his snarkiest tone, "we wouldn't be at school at all."

"You know you don't mean that!" I said. "You love it when I read to you!"

I was teasing, but he was quite earnest when he amended his remark. "In a perfect world, we would have this class all day!"

Aw, shucks.

On the Sly

A couple of rowdy boys were nudging each other and pointing to an iPad during class. "What are you guys up to?" I asked.

"We're just looking at something about the book I'm reading," answered the most mischievous one in an innocent voice.

"Really?" I said. "Let me see."

He flipped his iPad around to show a beautiful photograph of a fox. "It's my screensaver," he informed me. "I was asking him if he liked this one, or this one," he paused and hit the home button to show his wallpaper, which was another super-cute picture of a fox. Both seemed a little out of character for this tough guy.

"Did you put those on there because of Pax?" I asked him, naming the book that happens to have a fox as the title character which we are reading together in my boys' group

"No!" he shrugged, "I just like foxes." Then his voice softened. "They're so cute."

"Since when?" I demanded.

"Okay, since Pax," he admitted.

"That's awesome!" I said. "And I agree. They are adorable!"

Right Here, That's Where

What was I thinking when I placed 10 of the wildest, non-readingest boys in my morning book club?

That I could tame them with the magic trick of staring into all their eyes without blinking once (and donuts!) and that maybe we would find a wild rumpus of a book to celebrate together?

It looks like I'll be sailing in and out of weeks to find out.

And I may need a wolf suit.