My son’s favorite question lately is, “Mommy, what did you do when you were my age?”

He’s 10, and casting my memory back more than three decades feels like an effort in futility. I can barely remember what I had for lunch yesterday. What I did 30 years ago? Yikes!

My pat answer is, “Mommy liked to ride bikes and read books.” This was true then and is still true today.

A bibliophile, I have many memories of reading late into the night as a child. I confess: I spent several late nights during Thanksgiving week, listening to an audio book ... it’s a hard habit to break.

My son isn’t quite as captivated by the written word as I was. His reading tastes are fairly limited and repetitive (One can only read “A Pirate’s Twelve Days of Christmas” so many times!).

Over Thanksgiving, my parents ambushed me with boxes from my childhood. I had been meaning to get them for the last 10 years, but never quite got around to it. A recent carpet installation in their home prompted them to box everything up and deliver a box (or six) every time they come to visit me.

The most recent batch contained a treasure trove of literature, ranging from childhood favorites to some exploration I did into Stephen King during my early high school years. Some books I will re-home, others will be donated to Little Free Libraries ... and I definitely plan to keep some.

About two years ago, I purchased a few illustrated Harry Potter novels and attempted to read them with my son, but he simply didn’t have the interest or attention to sit and read with me. I haven’t been brave enough to reattempt chapter books since then.

Comparison parenting is truly a dangerous game, but when I saw my friend’s child, who was half my son’s age, reading a chapter book, I figured it might be time to try again.

Among the titles my parents recently dumped on me was “The Boxcar Children” series.

After the family cleared out from the festivities, we sat down with the first book.

“This was a book I read when I was your age,” I told him. “Would you like to read it with me?”

He quickly quizzed me, “Are there pictures?”

Ummm ...

I flipped through and showed him the simple sketches — it was no illustrated Harry Potter book. Regardless, the tie to my childhood was enough motivation for him to give it a try.

On our first session, we read five chapters! Yes, I realize they are short chapters and the print is large, but he was engaged with the story and kept asking to read another chapter. I will encourage “OMC syndrome” (one more chapter syndrome) and a love of literature at all ages.

Bonar is the editor/publisher and can be reached at kbonar@indyrepnews.com.