My name's Mama Undone and I'm a bookophile.  I always have been.   As a child I was allowed to access the adult library early because I'd read through the children's section.  Often The Mother would have to explain to friends that I wasn't coming out to play because I was reading.  Even now, I read and read and then read some more.  So, it's of no great surprise that The Spawn are enthusiastic and dedicated little book lovers.

This got be reminiscing about the books I read and enjoyed in my youth. I remember the mandatory things such as Fuzz Buzz, Bangers & Mash and Topsy and Time etc but what about the books we chose?  The ones we liked?  There's far too many to possibly list, I have had a long reading journey with eclectic tastes but here are a few that stick out in my memory.....

* Winnie -the- Pooh [A. A. Milne]

Brother 2 (The Golden Son) was gifted a copy of this by his Godfather in 1976.  I have fond memories of The Mother reading this to me, chapter by chapter, at bedtimes when I was but a small girl.  I also remember The Brothers Grim creeping into the room to listen whilst pretending they weren't really listening to it at all.  

I've always had a soft spot for those that live within the 100 Acre Wood.

Whenever we went to the dentist, as a child, there was a book I was drawn towards every time in the waiting room about a rather rambunctious little dog called Hairy Maclary.  I'd rush towards the book corner as soon as we arrived knowing that everything would be just fine so long as that book was there.  I think part of me saw it as my book that just happened to lodge at the dentists.

Naturally as soon as I procreated I was anxious to see if this precious book still existed so imagine my sheer delight upon seeing there's a whole series of them!  I don't know who enjoys them the most, myself or The Preschooler.

I remember reading all about The Five Children and It way before it became a tv series.  I had this set of books all in the same red hardback covers embossed with gold writing.

I read the series of these books too.

I remember reading this several times yet to this day I've never seen the film

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I can't think of many girls who grew up in the 80s-90s who didn't read Judy Bloom books, finally 'graduating' to Forever which saw to the fact that never again would you look upon the name Ralph without sniggering.









As I embarked upon the teenage years other books sneaked in such as Point Romance, Point Horror, Making Out series, Sweet Valley University books finally leading on to Discworld, Poppy Z Brite, Anne Rice, Chuck Palahniuk, Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, Bram Stoker etc in my late teens.

Lets not forget the books we were made to read for our GCSEs such as To Kill a Mocking Bird which I adored and at A'level .... works by Seamus Heaney who I utterly loathed.

Which books remind you of growing up?  Which were your favourates?

Toothgate

Thing Two had a wobbly tooth or rather she has several yet specifically one really wobbly one as in to say it's hanging on my will power alone.  She could quite literally push the ruddy thing forwards with her tongue and it would stay there.  She's only ever lost two teeth before, one was a freak trauma when she was a toddler and the other happened at school last year and despite it having been wobblesome for a terribly long time her teacher still reported to us that she was traumatised by it.  When I was a child I couldn't abide wobbly teeth, as soon as they begin to wobble i'd ruthlessly extract it, severing the very root with my nails and yanking.  Even now I lumber wobbly teeth in the same camp as feet, both ghastly and absolutely vile, vile as in the thought makes me nauseous and the sight makes me heave tremendously.

We've been subtly hinting for at least a week now that she really ought to pull the bugger out, a suggestion that was met with equal measures of horror and disdain.  Today however, enough was enough, we brought out the big guns.  It's interfering with her eating and she's been worrying her tongue on it frequently becoming increasingly perturbed by it.  The Husband issued an ultimatum seeing as she'd spent a good hour or so sulking, whimpering and crying about the blasted thing, if she didn't pull it out by bedtime; he would. Oh the terror.  Undiluted abject misery flooded her little face.

I stepped up to the mark, I offered to do it instead.  She surprised me and said yes.  Arse.  Even thinking about it causes me to be sick a little in my mouth.  Still, I did it.  I pulled the bastard tooth out and blood was shed yet not a tear.  Hoorah! Mission accomplished. So she gets a visit from the tooth fairy tonight, I do hope The Husband remembers to wear some wings and me?  I  want very much to bleach my brain.