It occurred to me earlier today that I was a clutz. Well, I kind of knew it, but sometimes we deny certain things about ourselves. When I dropped my computer mouse in my coffee an hour ago – there was no more denial. I liked that mouse.
For some reason I flashed back to childhood when my mom taught me to read. Well, she taught me to love reading and getting lost in a good story. Being the wise woman she still is, she might’ve been trying to save my limbs from disaster. I still remember the first Nancy Drew book she put in my hands while I sat safely on the sofa surrounded by nice, soft pillows. If I fell, no harm done.
As I grew up, I used to sneak into her romance pile and read those wonderful love stories. Sometimes I still feel like I’m getting away with something when I find myself lost in a steamy romance. Then the day came when I was old enough we could pass books back and forth. She gave me one of Nora Robert’s MacGregor stories – and I was hooked for life. Remember those?
And now, my mom has read my book. I asked her if she thought it was too steamy and she said that it was wonderful. Then she said, “Oh my.” 🙂 So here’s to our moms: When they ensured we survive childhood, they may also have given us the key to a happy adulthood. Thanks, mom.
So question: Who taught you to read and what book do you most remember?