The parrots wear goggles, the bats wear socks, and the lions only wear striped gloves- but were they really animals? Or were they humans? Or were they humans in animal form?

I truly don’t understand how I didn’t think these types of books were completely absurd as a child. There isn’t an exact number, but I was at that stage of life where I wasn’t able to read or talk in full sentences, yet I wasn’t completely incapacitated in the skill of reading individual words. Every night somewhere between kindergarten and second grade, my mom would sit my brother and I down in one of our rooms and just read. Any book we desired. It would be after brushing my teeth, when we were on the brink of sleep. My brother and I would each choose a short story- preferably one with pictures- and walk to the gray futon where I kept my stuffed animals, right at the foot of my bed. I would hand a book to my mom, and take my seat on the soft carpet next to her.

Normally, I would choose a typical bedtime story. “Are You My Mother,” “Stellaluna,” and “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” are among the honorary mentions. They were simple, straightforward, and easy for me to fall asleep to.

However, one night, I decided to dig a little deeper into my bookshelf. Explore a bit deeper. I fingered through the books one by one until I stumbled upon a certain book. Colorful, short, and full of pictures. Perfect. I ended up choosing a book of words and pictures of a variety of animals (most were pictures). Even today, the title of the book still eludes me, however, each page in the book would contain a cartoonist drawing of an animal, and next to it, a sentence or two with a catchy rhyme. Something like “one, two buckle my shoe” but with animals. Yet the animals were not just the regular lion, or tiger, or bear, this book contained these animals, but would include them with a clothing item or accessory.

Each time my mom flipped a page, I shouted a name. A name of a teacher, a camp counselor, a neighbor, anyone that came to mind when seeing that animal. Some comparisons made absolutely no sense, but as a 6 year old who could barely pronounce my “r’s,” I considered myself pretty talented.

Mr. Ben was a bear, Ms. Dana the hippo with glasses, and Mrs. T the giraffe. How I made these connections was pretty simple: Mr. Ben had as much hair as a bear on his arms, Ms. Dana had glasses, and Mrs. T was the tallest in preschool (she was the teacher).

Yet for me, I enjoyed this. I enjoyed sitting down, flipping through the pages, and shouting out names. I was delighted, knowing I was able to accomplish something so great. I loved to connect the unfamiliar characters to the people I knew in reality. It gave me a sense of accomplishment: “I can read!” or “I know who this is!” I was capable of thinking of someone every single time. And I was proud.

I was never very curious as a child, and at this age, I didn’t completely understand the concept of self-confidence or self-esteem. I was always uncomfortable meeting new people, talking to adults, and going to new places. I was the type of child to hide behind their parents when seeing a peer, even if I had known and been in the same class as them. I despised the unknown.

Regardless, as soon as my mom started to read, I started to make the animal connections. These connections helped me feel validated. Validated knowing that although I couldn’t read on my own, I still had some expertise to share with those around me. Validated knowing that every animal symbolized a person in my life. Validated that I could apply the book to reality. I was no longer in the unknown, I was in a recognizable place, and felt comfortable. Making the cartoonist animals a person in my life made me feel secure knowing that this new book wasn’t a complete stranger.

I wanted to feel this comfort, and books enabled this for me. This was the first book that introduced me to connecting the fantasy world with the world that I was familiar with. Even though books may be in some strange, new, society, if I was able to associate them with an important aspect of my life, I would not feel as lost in the unfamiliar world. That these books would automatically verify that the characters in these books weren’t complete strangers. They were someone- or something- I knew, just in a different form: as words on pages.