Clare and I went out to dinner last night mostly because I was to lazy to cook for just the two of us (the guys went skiing), but also because we’d not been out of the house for something fun in a few days. I’m not sure if Clare considers dinner with mom fun, but she seemed to have a good time.

Clare talked mostly about reading – her passion. Once again she thanked me for fostering a love of reading in her, which always tickles me, and she talked about what she loved didn’t like about books.

She loves it when the author manages to describe how people look without seeming to describe anything. She hates it when an author uses worn out metaphors and similies to make points in books.

She thinks Stepanie Meyer’s vampire trilogy is poorly written (even worse than the Harry Potter books, she said) but wants to read the second and third books anyway.  I liked what I read of Twilight, but I always was a sucker for vampire stories and gothic type novels.

She has the same kinds of opinions about films, but perhaps not so hypercritical.

I’m quite proud of how she’s turned out so far. Her love of reading will take her places – on a couple of levels. She’s not too bad in math either – last night she even figured out the tip for me.