Submitted by sunforthemoon t3_11medqe in books

My mother was a huge reader, so I’d literally scour the house to find her books, but she read a lot of horror and didn’t want me reading them so she’d hide them. I nearly drove myself mad looking for them.

Then my dad started getting really into autobiographies. He wasn’t a huge reader, but he liked reading about the lives of the celebrities he enjoyed seeing on TV.

One day I found what looked like a holy grail. Peter Kay’s autobiography. I was 7 or 8 at the time. It was hardback, had a cool cover and quite thick. Jackpot.

Three chapters in was how I found out Santa wasn’t real.

Never went looking for Mum and Dad’s books again.

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