Hands down, the best part of the second day was pulling out our Beatrix Potter collection, curling up on the couch alone and starting to read aloud.
First H3 climbed into my lap as I read A Fierce Bad Rabbit.
Somewhere near the end of The Story of Miss Moppet, A6 showed up.
We started into The Tale of Tom Kitten, and J9 curled up on the arm of the couch to listen in.
S11 was off trying to get some socializing in.
M11 was practicing the violin.
I1 was sleeping.
But E13 surprised me by peeking over my shoulder as I read The Tale of Jemima Puddle Duck and saying, "I love these books!" She stuck around for only a few minutes, but as she usually considers herself above such things, I was tickled.
A good book is a good book . . . period.
And Beatrix Potter wrote good books.