I'm a lifelong bookworm. My favorite memories from childhood involve reading. I read everywhere: up trees, in the bathtub, under my bed, wherever I thought I wouldn't be disturbed. However, books have not always led me to make the best choices. Which brings me to the list.

  • The Runaway Bunny: After my mom made the mistake of reading this to me, I decided to test the book's premise (the bunny's mom always finds him) at the grocery store and deliberately hid from my mom. She didn't find me, but a concerned grocery store worker did and I had to wait at the customer service desk, crying while they made an announcement about a lost child. Clearly, the premise failed to translate to the real world.
  • The Velveteen Rabbit/Little House on the Prairie/Little Women: When I was eight I contracted scarlet fever. Thanks to the aforementioned stories, I was convinced that I would a) have to burn my toys, b) go blind like Mary, or c) eventually die from a weakened heart like Beth. I had no faith in penicillin, which was not featured in any of the books I enjoyed. Luckily, in this case, medicine trumped literature.
  • Harriet the Spy: I thought I understood the moral of the story – don't let your friends see the shit you write about them behind their backs (that's what burner accounts are for.) However, when I tried to be a spy like Harriet, trouble found me not in the form of angry classmates, but in that of my angry grandmother. She caught me peeking in her neighbor's window and made me apologize in person. I still cringe when I remember that day.
  • The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe: When Edmond meets the White Witch, she gives him Turkish Delight, which C.S. Lewis describes as the best candy in the world, basically crack in confectionary form. At the age of ten, I saw Turkish Delight in a gift shop and bugged my mom until she bought some. I had to spit it out. Most disappointment treat EVER, including the time I discovered that eating a Caramello did not actually make objects stretch out like in the commercials.
  • Anne of Green Gables: Thanks to Lucy Maude Montgomery I believed puffed sleeves to be the height of fashion when, in fact, puffed sleeves made me look like a pirate or a linebacker. Unfortunately, I did not realize this fact until after middle school. Still, Montgomery did teach me the dangers of home dye jobs, so I can't fault her too much.