I grew up with my nose in book. Every year when we were packing for our summer holidays my mum would take my brother and I down to the tiny village library and pick out which books we wanted to take with us. We were only allowed to take out 6 at a time (library laws) so we examined the shelves long and carefully before choosing, and had read them all by the time the plane left sunny Spain two weeks later. Thinking back now they must have had a huge baggage allowance in the old days because we did not choose small paperbacks (and I can barely fit my toothbrush in my bag now without doing the shuffle of shame in the airport, trying to wear all my clothes so I don't have to pay extra for my overweight bag). We must have read every book in that library, then we advanced to the one in our nearest town which was very exciting because THAT'S WHERE DAD GOT HIS BOOKS FROM! (This was it, I'd made it).
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't a recluse. I still spent the majority of my day playing outside with my friends. Growing up in the countryside we would spend ages down at the park, wading through the river trying to catch crayfish, be-friending people who had trampolines in their gardens and waste hours and hours up a tree trying to make a tree-house (we only managed to tie sticks to the branches to sit on). But every night I would be tucked up with my book and when mum told me to turn my lights out I'd sneakily carry on reading, fumbling for the light and jamming the book under my pillow whenever I heard either of my parents walking past my room. Books are so important to a child's development and mine will be drowned in them. The language, punctuation and grammar is obvious, but also filling a child's head with so many different stories, character and ways of life must help them in the long run.