It fits with the stream of questions — I prefer the “whys,” though they’re harder to answer, but it’s mostly “whatsits” — pouring out of her all the time, even in her sleep. (Really! Neither of us has been sleeping well; I can hear her talking in her dreams from down the hall.)

Last night found all four of us in the living room at the same time — rare, the television was off but we were all relaxing — listening to chapter three of A Wrinkle in Time.

So we’re all about the more famous Mrs. Whatsit at the moment, as well.

Annabelle’s into it — at least, I think she is. It was hard to tell last night until, a couple pages into chapter three (“Mrs. Which”), she asked if she could take a turn reading aloud. I happily relinquished the book and Ray and I sat quietly, listening to our big little third grader.

Sophie snuggled under my arm, sighing like a puppy right before it turns in circles and falls asleep, and just as her own eyes started to close, she asked, “Mommy, can I read the next chapter?”

Absolutely, I told her, thinking, maybe not chapter four, but someday….

Not bad. And I’m not even sure Annabelle’s in the highest reading group in class. I stopped trying to figure that out after I was disappointed last year, upon realizing she was only in the second-highest. (Don’t ask me why this is the one and only academic benchmark I care about. I didn’t even care when she didn’t make it into the gifted program. OK, maybe I cared a little but not as much as I care about reading groups! Probably because that was my only area of academic success.)

So Annabelle can read. She didn’t start early, wasn’t “hyperlexic,” a horrible title given to little kids who happen to great readers, but now she reads the heck out of everything. I remember when she began bringing home those little books in kindergarten, how it was obvious she was memorizing and matching words to pictures and then poof! One day, she was a reader. I don’t know how it happened. But I remember marveling that it had.

At the time, I didn’t think about how this process would (or wouldn’t) work for Sophie. Sophie loves books. She wants to be read to, she wants to pretend to read to you, she is known to grab a book and abandon just about any classroom activity. (How do you punish a kid for wanting to look at books?!)

But will Sophie ever actually read? Ms. X assures me that yes, she will. And for now, the biggest challenge appears to be that instead of sitting quietly with the book in her lap, following each word with her finger, Sophie wants to hold the book up and teach it to the reading group. She’s not in the highest reading group, or the second-highest. In fact, it sounds like Ms. X will soon have to create a solo reading group for Sophie so she doesn’t disturb the other kids.

It’s like walking. I said I didn’t care how long it took, as long as she did it eventually. And Sophie did walk at 3; now she runs and climbs and it’s hard to keep up with her.

The reading I just can’t get my brain around. Will Sophie be able to? It’s important. Vital. Not an option. One of the most important life lessons I think I can teach my kids is that no matter how bad things get, you can always escape with a good book.

For now, I am going to assume that Sophie will read. Maybe not 160 words in a minute, or even 110. But, I thought, as Annabelle sped through a line about how squirrels have eyes on the tops of their heads (really?) there’s no real need in life to speed read. (Unless you’re in high school debate like I was, dorkdom I wouldn’t wish on anyone, particularly not my own flesh and blood.)

So maybe Sophie will be OK.