I've been getting further and further behind in my blog-reading lately, so I'm playing catch-up tonight. Stephanie at Steph in the City has a weekly feature called Group Blog Thursday, which I always mean to participate in, but never find the time to. So this week, I risk getting even more behind in the laundry, losing ten extra minutes of sleep, and missing the Leafs scoring the winning goal (snort!) to answer the question "What book(s) did you love growing up?"
1. Richard Scarry's Please and Thank You Book: I got this book when I was 6, and I took it with me on the ship when my family moved from Canada back to England for a few years. Sailing across the ocean made me sick for the full ten days, but I'll never forget how jealous I was that Pig Will got to eat ice cream after helping his dad at work. When I met the Captain, I discovered that he'd loved this book as well, and not long afterwards, he bought me a copy (the cover is STILL the same!) to replace my long-lost one. Firstborn and I have read it together many times.
2. Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret: I'm betting every woman who came of age after 1970 would list this one. It helped that Margaret had just moved to a new town. I could relate. We'd moved to Detroit from England when I discovered this book at the age of 11. The idea of someone writing about (gasp!) a girl my age wanting to get her period was shocking after a childhood of the very different (but equally wonderful) Enid Blyton, and I've loved Judy Blume ever since.
3. Rebecca: I read this at about 14 or 15 in English class and it had everything. Romance, mystery, and a shocking twist at the end. Seeing the movie afterwards began my obsession with the films of Alfred Hitchcock. And you know, anything that gets you watching Hitchcock has got to be good.
In all honesty, I could go on and on and on about this topic. Almost every one of my memories from my childhood involves me with a Beano annual or my Girl Guides handbook or the Famous Five (rah-ther!!) in hand. But those were the three that came to mind first, and from three different points in my childhood.
If there's one thing I hope my kids inherit from us, it's a love of reading. And when I check in on one or the other of them and find them oblivious to my presence, engrossed in a book, I know they're already halfway there.