Astrid Lingren    Every daughter and mother have their mother-daughter  secondments in ther life. When they do something together and nothing else  considerms to matter at the moment.   Mine was   civilisation  contains by Astrid Lingren with my mom. She was  interpret out loud and I was listening. I could not think of anything better to do. Every time she was  see the  phonograph record I found myself surrounded by the characters of the story,   transformable I was  wiz of them. The  records we read   mean  all(prenominal)thing to me.   First book she read for me was Karlsson On The Roof. The story of a   septette year old  male child who found a  lifter: little chubby guy who had a  fierce  waiver on his stomach and when he pushed it he started a  delicate motor with a propeller on his  covering allowing him to fly. We were reading it daily and I remember in every chapter  in that respect would be at least  one sentence mentioning the boy having cookies and  cocoa for breakfast. I    was  nigh the  aforesaid(prenominal) old age as the boy in the book and even though I wasnt allowed to  potable  deep brown I love it. The  face of it was something magical to me. Drinking coffee meant to be a  magnanimous up. Every time me and my mom had an argument about me having coffee I was saying that if the boy in the book was having a cup of coffee everyday it was okay for me to drink it too. It was the  superlative evidence, that drinking coffee for kids was normal.

 At least I believed it was.   I finally got a permission to drink coffee when I was eight.  Next book was  The Six Bullerby Children.   There is    one moment in this book when the man is goi!   ng to  obliterate his  trail (I do not remember why) and the children are  sacking him not to do it.   It was the most emotional part of the book. We were at my moms  cultivate as she was reading it. I felt the  require same way the children in the story were feeling. I knew that if the proprietor of the  hot dog would kill the dog I would not  postulate to  run into the rest of the story. I started to cry, and my mom was  toilsome to explain that it is  skilful a story and asked me to stop  blatant and hear what...If you want to get a full essay,  mark it on our website: 
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