I think I was eight years old. Christmas morning was a trial of endurance and patience. It was probably 5 o'clock in the morning when I woke up and discovered that the nearly empty Christmas tree last night was buried in a bonanza of presents just waiting to be ripped open. Santa had brought every toy that I had wished for!
But I was not allowed to touch them. I had to wait until my grandparents, aunts and uncles arrived, and everybody finished the Christmas morning breakfast before the gifts could be opened
Of course I was bouncing off the walls in anticipation and frustration. Finally, out of desperation, my mother gave me one present that I could open now, if I would calm down until everyone had arrived and eaten. It was a book! an adventure story, The Diamond Cave Mystery if I remember the title correctly. With nothing else that I was allowed to do, I sat down in a chair, and started reading it.
And, I have not stopped reading since then.