I was told in elementary school that I only could read at half the speed for success in college. Oh well, one benefit of slow reading is you get to live with the characters a longer period of time. I read in a vain attempt to better understand people. At my other homes, I'm known as a spouse, pop, guy in the choir, physical chemist, computer/web dilettante and child-care provider. In theory, I'm a published author, if you consider stuff like Quenching Cross Sections for Electronic Energy Transfer Reactions Between Metastable Argon Atoms and Noble Gases and Small Molecules to count as publications. I've strewn dozens of such fascinating things to the winds.
My spouse tried to throw some cold water on my Moomin infatuation and challenged me to read "the good stuff", e.g. The Wind in the Willows or Winnie The Pooh. I have a vague recollection that The Wind in the Willows wasn't read in my family when I was young. The family myth is that it was one of my father's favorite books, but that he tried reading it to my older brother when he was too young for it. So, my father didn't bother reading it to my sister and me when we came along. Interestingly, my older brother turned into an English major. You'd think he would have shown an appreciation of good literature at a very early age.