Today’s prompt is:
“What is your earliest memory of reading or being read to?”
Well, I have clear memory as far back as age three, and I know my parents were reading to me around that time… so there we go. And I’m pretty sure that Mom continued to read to me and with up through 4th grade, at least.
Books were divided into two categories – Mom books and Dad books. Mom read me faerie tales, my Little Golden Books, and, as I got older, books like The Hobbit, The Little Princess, and The Secret Garden. Dad read me stories that required funny voices like my Sylvester and Tweety picture book, Dr. Seuss, or Handy Dandy Helpful Hal.
Mom usually read to me in the afternoon – we’d sit on the couch under our big bay window and she’d read aloud (though The Hobbit was a bedtime story – a chapter a night), while Dad usually read to me in the evenings as a pre-bed, winding-down activity – same couch, but we’d cuddle in the corner with pillows and blankets.
I started reading fairly early on. I remember sitting on the floor of my room reading my Berenstain Bears books or my Cat in the Hat books.
Another favorite, by the time I was five, was Dinosaurs by Design – which had pictures and skeletal diagrams of various dinos, as well as information about what continent their fossils were found on, what prehistoric period they were thought to have existed in, and how big they were compared to humans. My favorites with the Deinonychus and the Compsognathus and for the longest time, I wanted to be a paleontologist.
So, books have been a part of my life for literally as long as I can remember. The constant exposure to reading and books at an early age fostered a love of stories and storytelling that has stuck with me even now.