You’re never too old to be read to

Or too young! I was reading to a four month old baby (her mother was making me) and I thought it was the stupidest thing, until one day I opened the book and the lil baby straightened up as if to say, I’m ready!


Me reading with Dad and my brother, circa 1983.

I’m not really sure where or when my love of reading began, but I know it’s a love that I was very fortunate to have encouraged and enabled by the adults in my life. I was raised by parents who read for themselves and also read aloud to my brother and me. Books were – and still are – plentiful in my house.Reading is a “cozy” activity for me. Whether it was snuggled up with my parents, my stuffed animals, or the couch and cats, it has always brought me a feeling of comfort, quiet, warmth, and safety.

When I was growing up, books didn’t have as much competition for attention as they do today. To find out the effect of all that competition, Scholastic has commissioned the biannual reportKids & Readingsince 2005. The report surveys parents and their…

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