Old Books...Old Memories

This past weekend I was at my parent’s house, so I decided to go through some of my old books. My plan was to find a few books that I could read for my outside reading assignment, rather than buy new ones. I sat on the floor of our spare bed room and started going through the huge container of books that my mom had saved from my childhood. She always mentions that she is saving them for her grandchildren. As I started going through the books, I happened to remember old favorites that I had long forgotten. When I was younger, each night I would curl up in my parents bed, right in the middle of the two of them. Being an only child, I was luckily enough to have all the attention every night, and day for that matter. I would get to pick out a book for my mom to read, while my dad and I enjoyed. This weekend, the three of us reminisced about the stories that we had heard over and over again. I think I picked the same books every week, but my mom never complained. My dad commented this weekend that he may have never read the books but he had heard them way to many times. Although he acted like it was a chore he would have rather forgot, I know deep down it was a past time that he thoroughly enjoyed.