Books, books and more books: The struggle to fit in a little reading time

 

In among all the Christmas shopping of the past few weeks (or if I'm being honest, months – I do mine very gradually), I managed to slip in a few minutes in Eason's.

 

It's become an annual tradition for me – I buy myself a couple of books, a couple of bottles of fancy beer and I tell myself that this Christmas will be the one that I finish them before I go back to work.

 

We're all parents here, right? We all know how this goes.

 

Instead of the reindeer-pattern jumper and a glass of warm, spicy booze, reading by firelight, you find yourself on the floor with the mini-screwdriver set, prising a battery compartment open and hoping you can get the all the parts of the Kung Fu Death Monkey Action Battle Station back together before Doctor Who starts.

 

But every year I kid myself. I buy the books (and usually get more as gifts) and hope I can finish the first one by March 2016 – it should be easy enough if only because I know I have many, many hours on trains and planes ahead of me.

 

I blame, or should thank, my own parents. Bibliophiles both, so growing up we never lacked for books in the house, nor was a trip to the library ever postponed beyond "after school tomorrow."

 

 

They would talk to me about what I was reading, even when I'm quite sure whatever it was would have bored them both to tears. And they were never ever shy about saying "you should try this one."

 

Both my dad and my mum had, and indeed have, piles of books on shelves and in stacks. They are swapped, shared and given away when they're finished, but there are always more coming into the house.

 

The good news (I think) is that it seems to be contagious. This year, both boys surprised me by including books in their letters to Santa, and when asked what she could buy him, AJ requested yet more books from his Nana.

 

One of IKEA's finest is almost overflowing in the boys’ room and both have jealously guarded favourites – woe-be-tide anyone who loses either of B's hardback Gruffalo books, or AJ's complete set of 'Stink' books.

 

Even AJ's teacher has noted his reading – he might seem like he's miles away, but there's a good chance that he got there via words on a page.

 

Mrs. M and I are doing all we can to encourage it. Okay, modern life means we get to bookshops more often than libraries (simply because the former is right next to the supermarket.) And it can be thought to tread the line (for it is a fine one) between 'encouraging a love of reading' and 'making the little feckers sit down with a book instead of a video game for five minutes.'

 

But we're surrounding them with books, leading by example, and I think we're winning.

 

Henry Rollins said that when you buy a book you're actually buying the time spent reading it. Looking at my bookshelf and my 'to read' pile, I think I'm paid up until I'm 120.