By Meredith Hale for Mommy A to Z.
I love the books from my childhood. There’s a dark humour woven throughout the stories my mother would read to me that I don’t find on my six-year-old daughter’s bookshelf. While I appreciate the lessons about friendship and imagination imparted by Pinkalicious and Olivia, and the somewhat sterile adventures of the Disney princesses and other popular heroines, I miss the sinister ogres and misbehaving children of my youth.