I love books. I love to read. I love to be read to. I love to looks at pictures, especially of animals. Mom loves to read and loves to read to me, but I love it more than her. How do I know? She hides my books. I've caught her in the act and I've found her stash one more than one occasion. 
My favorite is "Ten Little Monkeys" (although I haven't seen it in months). So, I take a book that I happen to find before she does, and I take it to her. Sometimes she acts like she is so engrossed in her work or whoever Ellen is talking to to see me there with the book. I'll slap it on her lap, shove it in her face. Eventually she gets the point and reads to me.
Repetition is the way to learn things, and I'm sure Mom has all the books just about memorized, but I enjoy them way too much to stop reading. And besides, she's the one that got me hooked!
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