When I think of my first experiences with words, I smell and feel books; the hard cloth covers of children’s books in my hands, “Cats in Spain like to fly aero-planes, but my cat likes to hide in boxes.” In memory, all books smell the same, like the basement of grandparents, anybody’s grandparents. I love it. Grammar books feel like short stubby fingers in my hands and the pages are oddly glossy smooth. I can smell diagramming sentences. I can smell exercise A and B.

The first book I remember, I did not touch and I did not smell. I know there were books read to me before this one, but it is first in my mental library. I didn’t feel it’s cover but I remember that it was soft. I remember the happy round people sitting together in a tub. I don’t remember the beginning or the end, but the main theme was truly about literacy. Most everyone has read this book or one like it. I don’t remember the title, but I do remember what it was about – how babies are made.