A Book My Mother Probably Hates Now

I wanted to write something on this blog in particular, but I couldn’t think of anything with substance. College has been busy, and I’ve been very tired lately. Things have been going slow a little in my brain. So, to scratch that writing itch, I decided to tackle one of the prompts from The Daily Post.

Prompt: Bedtime Stories
What was your favorite book as a child? Did it influence the person you are now?

wpid-wp-1443822541357.jpegMy poor, poor mother.

She must have thought I was a little shit when she would read to me Go, Dog. Go! before bed, because I would want her to read it over, and over, and over. I’m not talking about on a nightly basis; I’m talking about once she finished reading it, I’d want her to read it again immediately. I’m pretty sure, to this day, my mom has that whole book memorized in its entirety for almost 20 years. She pretty much hates this book now because of me.

I have no clue why I liked this book so much. Maybe it was because it had dogs in it, because I know I liked dogs a lot when I was a kid, or it involved cars, which I remember being loosely interested in. But why did I want my poor mother to read this to me multiple times in a row? I have no idea.

There isn’t that much in the way of a story. However, one time I found this book at Wal-Mart about a year ago, I think, and I decided to take a quick peak at it; apparently there’s a semi-romantic subplot between the main dog character and a female dog character. I think it was the main character who kept asking her if she liked his hat, and it was repeated several times until the end, when she did like his hat. Now why the hell did I just explain all that to you? Because I find it different that there’s something like this in a kid’s book; I don’t think it’s all that common. I wouldn’t know; I don’t have kids.

So, if I apparently liked this so much that I was willing to harass my mother, did this influence me in anyway? It’s always interesting to look back onto your childhood and see how it shaped you into who you are today. For me, I usually have a hard time because I don’t remember much from my childhood, at least, not vividly. The only influence I can think of was on my furriness (as in being a furry). There are other books of course, i.e. Dr. Seuss, but I think I was first exposed to this when I was very young (probably around 4 years old). Of course, there were other media influences over the years that solidified my love for animals in general, not just anthropomorphic, cartoon animals.

So really, I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m a furry, and neither should my mom. I haven’t told her straight-forward about it; the only mention was when I told her me and Ben went to Fur Squared last February.

Childhood influences man. Sometimes you have to look really deep to find them and put the pieces together, even the smallest ones.

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