Summertime and the reading is breezy
When I was growing up, I lived for summer vacations and all the glorious free time it represented for me to bury my nose in a book. There was a library within walking distance of our house that could easily have become my home-away-from-home. I’d check out the maximum number of titles that I could (I think the limit was three), read them all by bedtime (and sometimes even under the covers with my Girl Scout flashlight), and then be back the next day as soon as the doors opened to check out three more.