I take my children to the library every Monday.
We return our stack of books from the previous week, and then my daughter—age four—runs around grabbing new tomes for me to soothe her to sleep with. Being four, she chooses according to what’s on the cover. When we head to check out, I carry a stack of princesses, baby animals, and other such items of note that tend to appeal to young girls.
(My son, for the record, heads straight to the computers. He is two-years-old, has his favorite reads at home, and is particular when it comes to adding new titles.)
Last Monday, my daughter threw a book titled I Am Jazz into the pile.