My niece is about 3-3 and a half now. I hate babies, I just feel weird around them and have no connection to them at all. Now that she’s three and she can talk, learn to read, and understand stories well, I get sadder and sadder that I don’t get to see her but maybe once a year. I sent her some books for Christmas because when I was a kid reading and stories were so important to me, and I wanted to share that with her. I was nervous she wouldn’t like the books, but my brother sent me this photo and told me she LOVED the books. I bought her an emotions primer based on the characters of Jane Austen’s Emma, a reaaaally cute and fun picture book based on the X-Files which was my favourite show, and The Man In The Moon by William Joyce, whose books about the guardians of childhood bring me so much joy and nostalgia from being a child. She’s so sweet and loves being read to, and she loved The Man in The Moon so much she made my brother read it to her twice before bed... I never ever want to have kids, but I sometimes wish I had a kid to pass on my passions to. But, I’ll gladly share my passions and happiness with my niece as much as I can, even if we never get to see each other. Feliz Navidad, mi preciosa 💜💜💜