My Favorite Thing

My mom, like all good moms who hope to be grandmothers some day, saved many of the books my brothers and I read when we were kids.  She should get credit for not only hanging on to these books for 30ish years, but also for saving them from the flood at my parents' house about 10 years ago.  Without going into too much detail, the washing machine and my mom were not getting along and the washing machine won.  Water gushed from the main level down into the basement where these tomes, among many other things, were being stored.  In order to save these books, she laid them out all over the backyard so they could dry in the sun; she even went so far as to turn the pages every few hours so they would dry evenly.  Yup, she's that patient AND that awesome.

Anyway, among the stash of salvaged books are some classics that have been read a million times; there was also "My Favorite Thing."  Not necessarily a masterpiece, but one I definitely remember fondly. 

The other day Lucy was digging through the stash and handed this very book to my mom for her to read to her.  I was looking over their shoulders as they read and when they turned to the last page I said, "WHAT is that?!"

If you can't make out exactly what is going on here, I can help. The last page of the book asks, "Now, what is YOUR favorite thing?" I assume this is where normal kids shout "ice cream!" and "unicorns!" and "Daddy!"  Well, not me.  At some point, I had taken it upon myself to ink my response AND sign my name in case there was any confusion.

And my favorite thing? "Is to lay down."

And there you have it, folks.