My Child Couldn’t Read a Birthday Card—and I Embarrassed Us Both: What I Learned About Reading Struggles
The card had balloons on it and a cartoon dog. My son, Leo, was seven. We were at my aunt’s house for my cousin’s birthday, and the living room smelled like cake and coffee. Aunt Deb handed Leo the card. “Read it for us, big guy.”
He held it with both hands. He knew a few words. He guessed at the rest. “Happy… bir…day… to… you?”
My cousin Mark laughed. “He’s in second grade. Can’t he read yet?”
My neck got hot. I leaned over Leo’s shoulder. “You know this word. Sound it out.”
He turned the card over.
“You’re not even trying,” I said, louder than I meant.
The room went quiet except for a fork scraping a plate. Leo slid under the table. I remember that exact moment. The shame I felt wasn’t really for him. It was for me.
Later, in the car, I said something worse. “You embarrassed me back there.”
He looked out the window. “I can’t read good.”
“You can,” I said. “
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