Hey y’all! If you haven’t heard yet, I’m a bit of an avid reader (as you may be too, if you’re reading this blog. ☺) I feel like I’ve loved reading ever since I was learning how, but there was always one thing I thought was kind of odd.
I don’t remember my parents (or anyone) ever reading to me when I was little! I guess I just happened to pick it up easily and really enjoy it. My brother was always a big reader as well, and my sister too, in fact. They’ve lost the time to really indulge in it as much anymore, but luckily I haven’t quite yet.
However. There’s a twist. Because even though I don’t remember my parents ever reading to me, apparently my mom totally did all the time. I asked her one time when I was thinking about exactly this, how strange it was that they hadn’t but I came to love reading, and she was practically offended and said “Oh, I read to you guys all the time!” So I have no idea how young I must have been when she was reading to me for me not to remember it at all.
Next step: see if my brother remembers! Because a lot of my early books that I read, I grabbed from his shelf. Hello, Animorphs!