This week I bought the app of Guess How Much I Love You?
A review in The Bookseller promised 'you need never read a bedtime story again' which seemed a little sad to me.
Little a might disagree though. Essentially, it's an audiobook and ebook combined: you press the button to turn the pages, which appear just as they do in the book, and a recorded voice reads the text for you.
It has rather a nice feature which allows you to record your own reading. Brilliant, I thought, at last my outstandind reading abilities can be recorded for posterity.
Not so. We now have half a customized version of Guess How Much I love You? Featuring my dulcet tones overlaid with the wails of little a: 'I want the MAAAAAN! No mummy no! you're not LISTENING TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!'
She loves pressing the button. She loves the man.
I hate the sticky fingers on my precious iphone and being upstaged by a recording.
But most of all I hate that this charming story with its elegant illustrations has become appealing because of gadgetry when what I always loved about it was the chance to curl up with my own little nutbrown hare and tell her I loved her to the moon and back. Get the app if you must, but please enjoy the book as well ...
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I can't get over - I mean really can't get my head around at all - how comfortable J is with the iPhone. My old Nokia was a much better Parent/Child sharing phone.
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