Reading. I love it. Can’t get enough. Unless something is on TV. So I was thrilled when Amy got on the book bandwagon and loved having a story read to her from quite early on.  My “hurrah! My child enjoys books!” enthusiasm waned somewhat when she got to the stage where she would demand the same ones over and over and over and over and over again. One day, whether it was borne from sleep deprivation or just a desire to amuse myself, I started to search for hidden meanings and messages amongst the brightly illustrated pages.  And I FOUND them. I’ll leave the Hairy Maclary series alone, because that lovable scamp and his mischievous furry friends are National Treasures (having said that, Scarface Claw needs to be neutered, and I’d call dog control if Bitzer Maloney or Hercules Morse were free roaming on our street… Bitzer looks a bit bitey, and Hercules is as big as a mother-fugging HORSE). It’s the 1970’s favourites where the real windows to the dark side of humanity reside. …