Ahh this takes me back! I remember getting vouchers at school for a discount at a book store and I would enjoy perusing the shelves wondering what book I would spend the rest of the night reading (and then waiting for my parents to go to bed before switching the lamp back on and sneaking in some more time to carry on reading - rebel I know!).
I was such a book worm as a child I loved getting back from school, hopping on my bike with my backpack and begging the local library to let me take more than the allocated eight books (eight?!) home. I don't read super intelligent books, reading for me is an escape from the everyday worries I don't need fancy literature. I'd like to push myself though and read better books but for now I'm getting ridiculously excited to read old childhood favourites to my little man. In fact half of me is desperate for him to get involved at story time rather than stare at the pictures as if to say "this is not a bottle mummy" but the other half doesn't want him to grow too fast, it's gone too fast already!