Storytime for Jack

On one particularly cranky evening, I started reading Jack nursery rhymes. He stopped crying and seemed to watch my mouth and listen intently to the rhythms of the rhymes. I got to 'hickory, dickory, dock' when Dave came in and relieved me of my bedtime reading duties.

He had Herb Brooks biography. Together, they only made it through a few pages, but Dave kept enunciating "Mariucci, say Mariucci."

Jack seemed just as intrigued as listening to cows jumping over a moon or a mouse running up a clock.

And if Jack's first word is Mariucci, it will make his Dad's day.