I remember once when I was a kid and went to the library and checked out a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets. The librarian said, ‘Isn’t that a little old for you?’
I came home with that and some other books, and my father said, ‘Looks like you’ve got some nasty books there’. He was referring to Margaret Campbell Barnes’ ‘The King’s Bed’ - (I liked historical fiction) - and he read it and told me it was a very good book.
He wasn’t worried about Shakespeare - he was of a generation when they memorized that in school :-)
‘Isn’t that a little old for you?’
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My mother was appalled when Dad authorized me to take out any book I wanted on his card. He and I would discuss the stories & characters over dinner.
The library had summer reading programs where you could check out ten books/week, but you had to give an oral book report to the librarian to prove you’d read them. It got to the point where I would come in, give one book report and start in on the other nine & the librarian would sort of gulp and say “That’s ok. I know you read them.” to get out of listening to me for an hour.
Good times.