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 I never thought I'd actually read my childhood books to another person. I mean, eventually to my kids when/if I have them but not to... another grown person. So, I just finished reading one of my favorite childhood books, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, to a friend over the phone (may he dream about giant pancakes and a Jell-O sunset), and I am still laughing to myself at what just happened. Well, 1) I haven't read that book in a while (seriously, what child knows what Gorgonzola cheese is??) and 2) I haven't read aloud to someone in a very long time. One of the things I look forward to doing, at any point, is reading Harry Potter to kids. To see the looks of wonderment on their faces, and to have them ask, "What happens? What happens!?" is something that would warm my heart. Because if that series transported me at this age, then heck, it must transport kids a million times that. Now I'm looking for all my childhood books. I have a feeling I'll be reading more bedtime stories soon, and oddly enough, I look forward to it. Maybe because I get to finally share a part (a magical part!) of my childhood with another person. |
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Hi, my name is Amy. Be well, and say hello!
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