I must confess that I don't feel too much parental guilt.

I have a hard time relating to mothers that are constantly filled with angst over this and that, wringing their hands over teeny tiny decisions that, in the long run, probably won't make a huge difference in how their child turns out as a grown-up, a process that I think we can control less than we want to believe.

But there is one area where I do feel guilty: How much I hate to read aloud. HATE IT. This is something I largely keep to myself because it sounds so lame to loathe that special good-night read aloud, where Flipper is snuggled up next to me as I share some sweet book from my childhood with her.

I am over it.

Actually, I got over when she was about 15-months-old. But I do it anyway, night after night, book after book, because to NOT do it would, in fact, create guilt feelings even I, the Great Rationalizer, would be unable to justify into nothingness.

I also hate for anyone to read aloud to me; I cannot bear those books-on-tape things that my parents are addicted to when they travel, along with the rest of the AARP set.

Last weekend we spent part of Saturday with a friend and her sons. Her husband travels a fair amount for work, and she is, blessedly, a friend that I can pretty much say anything to without fear of judgement.

So she already knows of my feelings about the nightly read-aloud, and I cannot fully express the huge wave of relief that washed over me when she said, "I thought about you this past week."

Really? When?

"When I was reading the same book out loud again for the fifth night in a row."

Finally, someone else!! Her husband, when he is not traveling typically does the reading before bedtime thing, but I have no such other person to relieve me of something that should be pleasurable, but isn't.

She agreed with me that it is something that Must Be Done. After all, we want our children to love reading, to love books, to value a wonderful story.

And so she feels like I do at times: We are fulfilling an obligation that exists only in our own minds because the guilt otherwise is just too much.

So I try to find the silver lining to the guilty cloud: One day she'll be reading on her own, at least now we can read chapter books like the Little House series, that last night she became frightened by one of the American Girl Doll books (who knew they could be so terrifying?) and so I cast it to the floor and said "Good night!!"

Guilt-free at last!

Leigh appears Fridays on TriangleMom2Mom. Read more about Leigh at her blog Flipper and Me.