Thanks, Mom, for the gift of literature

Since this Sunday is Mother’s day, I thought it would be appropriate to do a related column. The flaw in this plan is that there are so many “mom” books that I can’t realistically write a column about them all.

As a solution, I’ve decided to write about the books that I associate with my own Mom: the books that she read aloud to me as a kid. You’ll have to bear with me for a minute here, because I’m going to shamelessly gush about how awesome my mom is. 

I realize that this is somewhat personal and possibly not a subject of interest to the city at large, but I’m working under the assumption that quite a few of you have awesome moms too. So, even if you don’t identify with the specifics, you might share the general sentiment, and you might also have wonderful memories of books associated with your mother.

The first thing you have to know is that my mom is a GREAT reader. She likes to read, and she has a wonderful and expressive voice coupled with excellent taste in literature. Due to this combination, I learned to love stories and books a LONG time before I could read on my own.

By far my favorite book as a kid was “The Hobbit.” I made Mom do the voices of the trolls and read the riddles over and over again. There was even a campaign at one point to make a homemade audio book, so that I could compulsively listen to my favorite bits over and over again without driving Mom nuts. This never quite made it to completion, but it’s OK: I think I have the best parts of it memorized now, and when I hear them in my head, it still sounds like Mom’s reading them.

Some other favorites were Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House books. For some reason, what I remember most about these books is that they contained elaborate descriptions of food and cooking, which led to many an impromptu bedtime snack.    Also not to be forgotten are Jack London’s “White Fang” and “Call of the Wild,” many a Ray Bradbury short story, “The Chronicles of Narnia,” and E. Nesbitt’s “Five Children and It.”

And these are just the first handful of books that come to mind immediately. I could go on, but it would really be a longer list than anyone’s interested in, which is really the whole point.

Mom and I have shared too many good stories to count, and we still call each other occasionally to exchange particularly witty or dramatic moments from books. I can’t ever thank her enough for inspiring my love of literature. Better still is the fact that I know I’m not the only kid out there who can say the same. So, here’s wishing a happy Mother’s Day to everyone who’s ever read to her children.

And, you know, an ESPECIALLY happy mother’s day to the mom who read to me.