I’m blaming my love of books on my parents. No really. It’s all their fault.
I remember the first book my dad brought me home I was about three or four years old. I’m pretty sure he got it while on a business trip—The Velveteen Rabbit.
It was a hardback copy with a hunter green cover and beautifully illustrated jacket. There were lots of words. Dad would read me one page a night. I looked forward to that one page a night. I’d get my pajamas on, brush my teeth, and rush to bed—waiting for dad to say goodnight to my brothers before coming in and reading me that one page.
There are tons of pictures of me “reading” to my brothers as a young girl (like before I actually could read . . .and I started reading a four, so you can imagine how young we all were). Mom later told me I forced my brothers to sit there and listen to me. Apparently I was quite the bossy little lady.
Fast forward a bit. I was mom’s grocery shopping buddy. Me and her would always shop together—maybe it was the fact that we would go after my gymnastics classes and the rest of my siblings were at home with dad. Maybe I was just special to get this mom-and-me time–whatever the reason, I loved this mom time. Another thing I remember about these shopping trips, was the books mom always bought me. It started with Little House in the Big Woods. Each week I would get the next book, and when finished, mom would get me the next one. Being a pastor’s kid, I know we didn’t have a lot of extra money–especially money to spend on books, but I so looked forward to these books each week and I’m so thankful to my mom who saw the need to splurge. I also remember the candy bar that we would always, always get to split every time we’d go shopping. Instilling in me a love for chocolate as well—thanks, mom.
Speaking of libraries, this place is one that I adore. If we ever move to a new town, and in my married life we’ve lived in three different towns, getting a library card is right up there with getting the water and electric turned on. We spent hours in the library growing up. Many times, we would go to the library to do school—these were my favorite days.
And now. Now I have incurable love for books. I have a small library (given it’s still in boxes in my attic, but a small library nonetheless) now and I love diving into a new book. Love the words on the page. The story.
What about you? Who’s fault is it that you love books?
I remember staying up late with a flashlight under my covers to finish reading a book I was in the middle of. Lol!
I did that so much!
I remember my mom reading every chance she got, I preferred books over dolls and treasured every one. My fave was The Little House series and Nancy Drew.
It’s my mom’s fault. She was always reading to me. My favorite place in the world next to Disneyland is Barnes and Noble and not just for the Starbucks (though that’s a huge bonus…I’m not just a coffee nut, I’m a Starbucks junkie). I love the smell of fresh books, the feel of a new story in my hands just waiting to be read. Oh, and I’m totally with you on the whole library card thing….it’s our fave place to go in this small town of nowheresville. They know me so well they have my card number memorized. When I call to renew my books they know immediately who I am lol:) And I inherited a small library from my mom, which is also in boxes:)