The first book I loved is a simple story about a brother and sister who clean up their garden shed and sweep and dust and turn it into such a lovely space that their Mum and Dad say they can have it as their very own garden playroom. It's not exactly the Citizen Kane of books but I fell for it and wonder about the ways it shaped me.
Am I a cleanaholic because Jane is? Did this little tale create an indelible connection between cleaning and rewards in my toddler mind? And for ages I really wanted a breakfast set that had blue and white stripes and I had no idea why. The original book (the one I grew up with) got lost on one of our family's many moves. But I found this on Alibris in a bookshop in Florida. If I needed a reason to love the internet, that would be one.