There are some books that I had as a kid where I don’t really remember the contents. I see the cover and get a warm rush of nostalgia. “Hey, let’s read this one!” I say to my son, but then two pages in I start skipping words and awkwardly making up my own story to go with the pictures. “…and then the rooster takes the knife and… Oh look at this other book over here about bunnies! Let’s read that one instead!”

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