Although small, I was once much tinier indeed. 

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I could read by the age of four - thanks to my dad.

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I remember sitting at the kitchen table, watching him print out simple sentences in a pink exercise book. These sentences soon became stories that we wrote together. 

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From learning to read and write with my dad, to the Sesame Street books my mum would buy using Safeway coupons, to the trips we would take to the library, my world was filled with books.   

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Each week we would load a cardboard box into our green Ford Falcon and fill it with stories from our local library.

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These days, the car is grey, not green and my feet reach the pedals a little better (just), but there's still boxes of library books in the back.

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My wondrous job title of 'Storyteller,' sees me needing (it's a need, not a want) to read copious amounts of children's books to little humans.

 

It's MARVELLOUS I tell you.

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And guess what else?  

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Not only do I get to read other people's books to little folk- I get to write my own too!

 

And soon, I'll be reading MY books to MY little folk.

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MARVELLOUS x infinity.