So why should an audiobook be seen differently? It’s a question that comes up in the writing groups I’m a part of, and while opinion is divided as far as I’m concerned if it works for you then go for it. They’re their own type of adventure. And while they’re great for people who, for health or some other reason, can’t read or struggle with reading physical books the simple pleasure of being read to — and read to well — should get everybody’s interest.

They’re popular with my three children and have been ever since we bought little devices called Yotoplayers some years ago; you can play music on them as well, or stream from an app which is great in the car.

Daughter, who is 5, loves stories like Peppa Pig and Disney or Pixar. I could write a whole column just on how she is becoming the fearless, take-no-nonsense child we should all aspire to be.

Meanwhile my twin boys, who turned 11 only this week, have very different interests and styles when it comes to reading.

Twin 2 is a voracious reader of physical books and has made his way through the Horrible Histories library more than once, and they’re not even his very favourites. He’ll read any subject. I should, I suppose, be trying to enforce lights out and sleep but I can’t throw stones given how when I was 10 and 11 (and beyond) I was reading for hours by lamplight. He has protested that he doesn’t want or need his own audioplayer, yet when his brother falls asleep he commandeers it for his own books. I see right through you, little man.

For a long time I got to read stories aloud to the two of them, although it tended to be guided by the interests of Twin 1, Jacob (who is autistic and who I’ve written about several times). And he has varied interests. 

He likes history, so asked me to read them a Junior Cert textbook. He took a shine to classic literature like Treasure Island, so we read some of that for a while. We’ve been through the Roald Dahl library and others.

I think we were part way through 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, one of my favourites from about his age, when it sort of fell by the wayside, when he started to enjoy more quiet as he fell asleep than my reading, or else he didn’t like the way I’d started using the method you find in the Calm app, where the story begins at normal speaking volume and gradually falls away until it’s barely a whisper.

He can read, in case you’re wondering, but I’m not sure he has the patience for a book and I’ve seen him glance at a page and being able to pick the answer out of a set of choices on an app, including a whole series of poetic rhymes that neither I nor his teacher had done with him in class.

It took some time to dawn on me that it wasn’t just the bedtime routine he wanted but that he’s also sharing an interest. Usually it’s the same audiobook, the junior novel of Pixar’s Ratatouille to be precise, but it varies sometimes and we listen to stories of Greek gods, mythical heroes, and recently Nordic gods. I mean, they’re in French so I don’t presume either of us know everything that’s being said, but given he’s been known to exclaim “oh lala” or “alors” when told the school bus has arrived he seems happy with the rhythm of it.

He hasn’t completely forsaken being read to, though. Occasionally he’ll tap on or hand me a book to read a few pages out of. They could be children’s books or, to my amusement once while we waited in the car for his siblings, Gothic ghost stories. 

At Christmas he was delighted when my wife read A Christmas Carol to the three of them.

All the same, it is easy to feel the odd pang of sad nostalgia. I enjoyed reading to the two of them, and apart from recently recording one of my own short stories for a podcast and a few occasions with my daughter I don’t really read stories aloud anymore.

Part of it, though, is the knowledge of my children getting older. And it’s good that they’re growing and developing and finding their own interests, if jarring when, like Jacob, they start using Gen Z slang like “ cheugy”. Being a dad, especially when you have a child with a disability, sees you pulled between delight at them growing up and some vague, not necessarily logical instinct that maybe they don’t need to grow up quite so fast.

It would, though, be nice to read to them properly one more time. Maybe I should record an audiobook and let the spirit live on that way.