confession: i don’t read

It’s true. I try to read. I have an adorably optimistic stack of books on my bedside. But two pages in (if I’m lucky) and I’m watching the back of my eyelids or thinking about what I want for breakfast. Why is this? I used to love reading. One might even fancy me a bookworm. One time in 5th grade I lived in a tree in my yard for two days. i think it stemmed from a fight between my sister, Annie, I. Anyway, I didn’t bother bringing up essentials like H2O or dunkaroos. BUt I did haul about 20 pounds of books up into that maple. Or,  back  I when I was a wee thing in New Jersey, Annie and I used to share a bedroom. I was so sick of it that I lived in a box within the bedroom for 3 days. And while I heard 90210 playing on the tv, I was in that box with my flashlight reading.

So the point is, older sisters are terrible. But also, I found out why I don’t read anymore… There’s no rewards system!

Back in the day, If i knocked out an “Island of the Blue Dolphin”, I would get a few scratch’n’sniff sticekrs which I coveted so dearly.


or remember Book It? The program thru Pizza Hut that rewarded kids in their literate efforts with personal pans and hologram buttons?


Oh childhood, you’ve ruined me.


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