The hubby and I are watching a Back to the Future marathon tonight. We were supposed to have flying cars, hoverboards and smart clothes by now. I found myself pondering all the reasons, despite the technological brilliance of the 21st century, we don’t have then yet…right up until a scene in Part 2 in which Marty McFly observes his son watching tv “for a change.”
And then I knew.
Our 1980’s fantasy of 2015 imagined we would still prefer to be out in the world rather than isolated from it. I wish my daughter watched TV once in a while “for a change” rather than our having to impose time limits to prevent her binge watching an entire season of Glee in one sitting.
To be fair, I would, at her age, read a full length novel in one sitting, but its difficult to get her to do more than look at the pictures in her favorite magazine, but less bury her nose in a book for hours on end. She has been our daughter for almost two years now, but I read to her every night for the first one, in an attempt to interest her in books. She loves the idea of books—will check out half a dozen at a time because the cover intrigues her—but lacks the imagination to really enjoy them. It makes me a little sad that she may never know the joy books gave me. That she views reading as work and writing as a chore.
And that her favorite subject is math. Ugh.