There are many reasons why I read to my kids, even when they can already do it on their own. As a kid, books were my best friends. I was born into a family of writers and linguists, and I grew up surrounded by books and manuscripts. I imagined that every house was filled with books as ours was and that reading and writing for fun was the norm. My grandfather and father had a small publishing house, and on weekends my sister and I would help out in the binding process. I can still remember the smell of ink and the steady sound of the printing press. Saturday evenings, my dad would take us to a bookstore and we would spend most of the evening browsing, reading and then buying a book or two to read during the week. We read together as a family. On school nights, I read under the covers with a flashlight, until my abuelita found me out and would order me to go to sleep. When I didn’t have friends to play with at recess, I would sit in a corner of the playground and read. Books like A Little Princessand Wuthering Heights marked my tween years.