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When I visit schools, young readers often ask questions in superlatives. What’s my favorite book? My favorite author, color, food, etc. And perhaps because I am an adult, I tend not to think about things in those terms. So I always fumble for answers, offering lame responses, since nothing I say makes sense to me. Except for color. I have, at last, a satisfactory answer to that one.
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My favorite color is gray.
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It wasn’t always that way. I guess it grew on me.
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(Sidenote: For blog purposes, I have to categorize posts. I didn’t know whether to put this under “School Visits” or “Scary Tales.”)
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