Quick story time (or maybe not — I do tend to babble). I’ve been reading for as long as I can remember. Literally. When I was a little girl, my lola (Filipino for grandmother) read books to me every single day, especially right before my bedtime. According to her, I immediately became obsessed with it.
Every night, I would go to her room, carrying two or three books with me, and ask her to read all of them in one sitting. More often than not, after she finished reading, I’d still ask for more. It got to the point where lola actually tried to deceive me by skipping a few pages here and there (I assume it’s because she wanted to get rid of me more quickly) — and naturally, three-year-old me called her out on her attempts every single time. Feeling defeated (and likely really fed up with me), lola decided to teach me how to read on my own. In the end, I learned my alphabet, as well as how to read, before many of my older cousins did (#flex).