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Every Saturday morning until the end of September, fairytales are read at the Hans Christian Andersen statue in Central Park. Just when I thought I couldn’t love this park more! Being told fairytales and bedtime stories when I was a kid are some of my favourite childhood memories.

If my Dad told them, it was usually a scientific book or something random from the shelf that he’d pick up, after finally giving in to me and my sister begging for a story. He’d read it as fast as he could — getting faster and faster and faster until he wasn’t even saying real words. My sister and I would be in stitches, thinking it was the funniest skit we’d seen. Having grown up I suspect my cheeky Dad was largely motivated by the soccer that was probably on the television downstairs… Though he certainly told stories properly too, especially Big Dog, Little Dog.

My Mum on the other hand revelled in reading us the classics. Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, The Faraway Tree… Hearing those stories was pure magic. I think we got the Disneyfied versions of Hans Christian Andersen’s tales though — it probably wasn’t until I was a teenager that I realised how gruesome some of them actually are!

What did your parents read to you when you were little? What were your favourites?

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