Reading with Dad

If you’re a reader, when did your love of reading start?

For me, it all started when I was a kid. Back in the days when times were less complicated and my biggest worry was which pair of socks to wear to soccer practice. My childhood memories are filled with visions of my Dad reading books. Every day I would see him reading a book or the newspaper. 

This passion for reading was a shared venture. He’d sit and read to me daily. My earliest memories include my Dad and I huddling excitedly over a well worn book like “Old Mother West Wind.” Although I didn’t realize it at the time (and I’m not sure my Dad did either) this daily routine became one of my fondest memories of childhood. 

Dad and I would sit back against a big blue corduroy pillow with my head leaning on his shoulder.  He would adjust his glasses, start reading out loud and then away we’d go… off on another adventure. This routine developed my love for literature and I haven’t stopped reading since!

Blogger’s Note:

Dear Dad, 

Thank you for reading to me.

Thank you for reading the same book over and over at my request.

Thank you for never being too tired to read.

Thank you for introducing me to the world of Old Mother West Wind, The Shire and Mulberry Street. 

Thank you for showing me that literacy is empowering and for teaching me how to share the world of books with my own kids. 

There is no Dad in the world (literary or in real life) better than you. And to think… now you’re a grandfather frog. “Chugarum.” 

Love, 

Your Baby Girl

3 thoughts on “Reading with Dad

  1. This is such a sweet post ❤

    My love of reading started when I was a toddler and my grandmother would read with me. She read books with me all the time. She also started teaching me to read when I was really little, using flashcards and workbooks. She used to bribe me to do flashcards and worksheets with strawberry ice cream. I don't know why but I was obsessed with strawberry ice cream as a little kid (with all the flavors out there, why THAT one?) and my grandmother freaking weaponized it to get me reading before kindergarten lol

  2. My love for reading also started with my dad teaching me how to read. And then, he had to work overseas but he would send me books as gifts. Reading those books as a child made me feel closer to my dad who was far away so I really held on to those books. And then in High School, books felt like an escape for me. While reading, those bullies can’t get to me. Now that I’m living a good life, I still value reading a lot. It’s now just part of who I am 🙂

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