I just read that workers rolling cigars in Cuban factories have been one of the best educated reps of their society: there was, and sometimes still is, a reader employed to help them go through monotonous yet focus requirying job.
The power of reading.
It helped me survive teen years, which are never easy, however quiet, easy-going and well protected you may be (in my case protection was defined by a lack of siblings, wonderful grandma who I definitely underrated back then, and the fact I was living in a village with not so many occassions to let your raging hormones go; in short - haha!;) - I was a good girl). It helps my older one wind down before sleep, and that is quite a milestone, considering how moody, active and stubborn she can be (let's face it: just like her mother). It helps my little one ease the pain of growing teeth; he seems to have developped a unique ability to identify books accurate in size, thickness, and weight, for that purpose. Good for him. As long as these are not iBooks, I don't mind. It also makes my husband smile a little more; even when I envy him he can sit with his precious Kindle, while I continue my helpless fight with time during my evening skincare routine, part of me, that good girl part, is happy for him.
I should be reading more though. If only I could do with less sleep...;)