Unlike other stories he asked me to read a gazillion times, I never tired of this one. First of all, it's short and I was exhausted. (Hey, if you spent every day with the real David, you'd be toast, too.) Second, it's funny. David running down the street without his pants on never gets old.
My rambunctious two-year-old boy is now a sophisticated five. These days he's more interested in nonfiction books about the human body, and our bedtime reading includes Taking Care of My Ears.
But every now and then, he pulls out No, David! and we remember the days when he was little. And at the last page, I still give him a big hug and say, "Yes, Patrick . . . I love you."
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