All in all, she seems to be enjoying it immensely. Even if it’s giving her dreams that many would call nightmares. …

At 6 a.m. Saturday, Riley jumps out of her bed and trots into our room. Her mom’s already out for an early run, so she climbs into mom’s spot and mutters something about her “golden crickets.” I assume she’s half asleep and we both try (unsuccessfully) to go back to sleep.

Eventually we relent to wakefulness and head to the kitchen.  She’s clearly awake now as I’m pouring her some milk.

“Daddy! I had a wonderful dream last night!”

“Really honey? Tell me about it.”

“Well, there were these golden crickets! And they were covering me up and tickling me. Keeping me warm. Like a blanket!”

“Wow, really … How many?” ["And how were you not horrified?"]

“So many! All over me, Daddy! And there were spiders too! They had hairy legs and soft little pincer toes. That tickled too.”

“… Uh, wow. That’s great honey. So, you liked this?” [Again, you're not mentally scarred from this experience, right?]

“Yes, it was wonderful!”

“Well, that’s fantastic honey. Great dreaming. Let’s be sure to tell Mommy all about it when she gets back from her run.” [Big hug.]

Did I mention Mom has a fairly sizable fear of spiders?

A couple days ago, Riley also dug out of her closet a large stuffed spider she got as a baby (as a gag gift given her mom’s stance on the whole spider issue). She’s slept with this stuffed animal the last three nights and renamed her Charlotte.

Mom was as amazed at this story as I was. Truth be told, the girls amaze us daily — but this was some spectacular stuff. And while the spider part makes sense, given Charlotte’s role in the book, the crickets are a bit more difficult to pin down. Here’s what I’ve deduced as their origin.

1) Riley loves all kinds of bugs, and crickets seem to be in abundance right now.

2) Early on in the book, Fern’s dad makes Wilbur a bed of (golden) straw. Wilbur nests in the straw. Either the book made reference to the straw tickling Wilbur, or when Riley and I were talking about the book, we talked about how that would be ticklish.

1+2=A dream only a kid wouldn’t find terrifying.

According to a Telegraph story out this week, that was the question poised by a recent University of Worcester survey. The answer? 1 in 5 parents said A Christmas Carol.

Other authors who made the list included JK Rowling, Jane Austen, George Orwell and JRR Tolkien. I’m guessing this was a British audience given Harper Lee’s was the only name from this side of the pond.

I can’t find the actual survey anywhere, but that’s beside the point. As a dad, I’ve been tossing around another, less hypothetical question related to novels.

I haven’t yet read my daughters a novel. My smallest is turning 2 tomorrow (unbelievable). She loves books with a lot of drawings that she can describe. I will never tire of her — at the sight of any monkey — wiggling her little finger and singing “no more monkeys jumping on the bed!” She’ll do this repeatedly. At every point a monkey shows up. Curious George is quite a lyrical experience. If I tried a novel with her, it would either be thrown on the floor or involved a lot of mumbling of the ABC’s.

But her sister is just about 4 and I’m pretty sure she’s ready to embark on the Chapter Book experience. So, while the Worcester survey is intriguing, it’s a bit too limitless (what age?) and limiting (just one?!). I want to know what our first novel will be.

She loves animals, bugs, fairies, running and swimming. She would be equally fascinated by a Big Friendly Giant and a pig who can spell. By a friendship between a rat and a mole or a talking lion and an evil witch. By a journey to Neverland or the Land of Oz.

For now, I’m leaning toward the pig who can spell. But what about you? Do you remember the first novel you read to your child? Or that you were read as a child?