NOT reading between the lines

liam's just this funny kid.  (i could use "weird" or "confusing" in its place, but "funny" has a much more positive connotation.)  in this context, it all stems from one basic fact: he read before he talked.  i mean, think about that.  that's pretty darn weird confusing funny.  isn't basic human development designed so that babies and toddlers hear first, and then start to form sounds that then connect into words that then connect into sentences?  and then, after they're conversing, reading starts to happen?

but no.  not liam.  he could sit for an hour, absolutely enthralled with a story, and read it start to finish.  but if we tried to figure out if he'd truly understood it, he could only explain to us his understanding in short, choppy, rudimentary answers.  we could piece together that he had indeed gotten it.  but no other adult could.

his speech slowly, surely, began to improve, thanks to hundreds of speech therapy sessions.  but i still hold on to one specific memory to show how unorthodox his progression was, which was when we called my sister on her birthday when liam was three years old.  i knew that if i handed him the phone, he would sit there, elated to be holding the ever-elusive gem of technology but completely silent on his end.  his verbal communication skills just weren't developed enough to extemporaneously convert thoughts in his head to words out of his mouth.  BUT, i figured out that if i wrote out a script that went something like, "happy birthday, aunt leslie!  it's liam.  hope you have a great day!  i love you!" he would deliver it with ease. 

i mean, seriously.  weird confusing funny, right?

and the funniness now continues to school.  on the second day of kindergarten, liam's teacher had already realized his reading ability, and asked the school-wide reading specialist to work with him.  she pulled him into her office and gave him a three-page story to read out loud to her.  she e-mailed me later that day, citing his "wonderful fluency and expression", which, according to a literacy consultant friend, means that he reads like an adult would and emphasizes the appropriate words, which demonstrates that he really comprehends the overall message of the passage.  apparently, most kids at this age who can read do so in a stilted fashion, piecing together sentences word-by-word and faltering when asked about the material.

this story that he was asked to read was some sort of second grade benchmark, meaning that second graders are given this as a way for teachers to assess whether or not they're ready for third grade level work.  of course, by the end of the second grade year, students have three school years under their belts of being asked assessment-type questions.  they're used to the drill.

but liam is not.  he's been reading solely for fun's sake every day for the past three years, without having to dissect the stories or almanacs or encylopedias he loves to pore over.  which explains what happened in his session with the reading specialist.  the following is from her notes, which she shared with me with a giggle or two in our follow-up meeting.  the story was titled Frogs and Toads, and i think it focused on two fictional characters doing something that wrapped up neatly in the end.

mrs. b: "so, liam, what was this story about?"

liam (thinking that mrs. b truly didn't know what the story was about, and trying to be as diplomatic as possible): "um, well, this story was about frogs and toads."

duly noted.  and then:

mrs. b: "where did this story take place?"

liam (probably at this point wondering how this poor woman wound up with a teaching degree): "right here, mrs. b.  see this book?  the story was on pages 7, 8, and 9."

and let's face it.  that's not weird or confusing.  that's just plain funny.