I remember this one time we went shopping with Dad when we were kids (eight years old, I believe). As I passed by the books section, a particular one caught my fancy. It had this bright red cover (hardbound, I think) with golden lettering. And it was a FAT book.
"Buy me that", I insisted. He checked out the book (and the price, of course). No, he said firmly. He still does not understand why I would buy books - fiction, that is. His idea of book-buying is for 'general knowledge' (as he puts it). As kids the few books he did buy us were - an edition of the Encyclopedia, 'More Tell Me Why', Wren & Martin, Oxford English Dictionary and 'Who said What'. That probably explains a lot of things, including my love for quotes.
Anyway, I did not get that book, and had to settle for a couple of Archie comics.
It's funny that years later the one thing that eludes me is precisely that - a suitable boy.
(Of course, I don't mean the book. Also, I am yet to read it.)