A little background before we get started. My parents love to read. My mom can read in English though she’s slow and prefers Portuguese while my dad reads almost no English and primarily just reads in Portuguese. When I told them that the central branch of the Vancouver Public Library had a good sized section of books in Portuguese, my parents latched on and for the last few years, my dad has been making trips to the library every few weeks to pick up books.

Now, something about my parents. They’ll read nearly anything but they have a preference for mysteries and romances, and though we have, over the years, read some of the same books, this is the first time this has ever happened.

This past weekend I was in my parent’s kitchen getting some stuff out of the fridge for Dan’s surprise birthday BBQ (which, by the way, was a complete success) when I spotted a book on the counter. I’m nosey, so I checked to see what it was and was struck by the title. A second later (or however long it took me to translate the title in my head), I realized that we were reading the same book.

The book in question: Kazuo Ishiguro’s “Never Let Me Go.” I picked this off my shelf the other day since I wanted to read it in preparation for the upcoming film (the trailer for which looks fantastic) while dad picked it up hoping for a good romance.

I’m only partway through but he’s finished the book and in discussing it after dinner, he mentioned that he didn’t care for it because it was a bit too slow burn for him. I’m only 70 pages in and so far loving it, but I’m excited to finish so dad and I can have a little chat about it.

Just another reason why I love my parents. No surprise that I’m such a bookworm myself, it’s in the genes!