I was devastated to read the results of the latest National Parent Survey released earlier this month (Picture: Sarah Whiteley)

Every single night without fail, no matter the time, me and my husband Tom will cuddle into our two children – Theo, six, and Immy, four – to read a story.

It’s the thing I treasure most about my day.

For me, it’s not simply a way of passing on my love of books, helping Theo learn to read or introducing Immy to her letters.

It’s one of the best ways I know how to bond with my children. Of spending some quiet, quality time together – just us.

So I was devastated to read the results of the latest National Parent Survey released earlier this month.

It revealed that nearly 900,000 primary school–age children don’t have access to enough age-appropriate books at home. And that nearly one in 10 adults read to their 5-11-year-olds for fun less than once a month.

How absolutely crushing is that?

For as long as I can remember, I have adored reading.

Not all parents are able to put their children to bed (Picture: Sarah Whiteley)

As a child, I loved Enid Blyton’s books, then Roald Dahl’s The Witches and The BFG, before getting into Goosebumps and Point Horror.

Even after it was bedtime, I’d wait until my parents went downstairs, then pick my book back up and, squinting in the hallway light, I’d read another chapter or two.

Even now, as a working mum-of-two, it will have been a pretty exhausting day if I don’t pick up my book and read at least a couple of pages before I drift off.

I love meeting new characters, being introduced to whole new worlds. And now I love passing that gift on to Theo and Immy.

So far, it seems to be working. Theo is currently a huge Horrid Henry fan. And Immy loves her Angelina Ballerina books, which she insists on reading, then re-reading, every night.

But although we started our bedtime routine to encourage a love of reading and help our children get to sleep, Tom and I have also discovered some unexpected benefits.

For as long as I can remember, I have adored reading (Picture: Sarah Whiteley)

Because now bedtime has become the time when, away from the distractions of their toys and the television, Theo and Immy will chat to us in a way they don’t at other times of the day.

Immy likes to regale us with what she has done at nursery, or who her best friend was that day, or point out what new bump or bruise she has. Theo usually tells us about his latest game of Sonic or Hot Wheels on his tablet.

But sometimes, it will be more serious.

When Theo first started in reception last year, it was usually in the middle of the book that he would stop me and ask if he had to go back to school the next day. Or that he didn’t understand how to use the class iPad to choose what he wanted for lunch.

These were things you could tell had been turning over and over in his head from the minute we picked him from the schoolyard, but it was only hours later, when we were in bed, reading, that he found the courage to tell us.

When he opened up about his worries, my heart could have broken for my son, who seemed – seems, still – little more than a baby. Which made me all the more grateful that we had created a safe space where he felt able to open up to us.

This is because he knows it is a time of day when it is just him and either me or his dad. We’re not finishing work off or shoving in a wash. He has us to himself, and he knows we’re listening completely.

When he opened up about his worries, my heart could have broken for my son (Picture: Sarah Whiteley)

Similarly, it has also sparked off conversations with Theo about my childhood, as I tell him about the books I used to love when I was younger. ‘What else did you used to like to do when you were a little girl, Mammy?’ he’ll ask. Or, ‘Were Grandma and Grandad strict?’ 

It’s lovely when our conversation goes beyond books.    

Now, I get it. There could be a million reasons for parents not reading to their children. Maybe they have other activities they do together that they prefer. Maybe they run or swim or draw or sing or play an instrument. 

And that is amazing. The world would be a boring place if we were all the same.   

Then, of course, not all parents are able to put their children to bed. They may have to work shifts or live in separate houses.

But reading doesn’t have to be a bedtime activity. It could be first thing in the morning, before everyone gets up. Or for 10 minutes after the children get in from school and need to decompress. Or any time during the day when you have a quiet moment with your little one.

Yet, the survey, conducted by YouGov on behalf of parenting charity, Parentkind, also found that one in four are struggling with the everyday cost of sending their children to school.

And in the middle of winter, amidst a cost-of-living crisis where people are having to choose between the extreme basics of survival – food and heating – I can completely sympathise with just how overwhelming this must feel.  

Yet, that is why reading is so perfect.

Because while it would be extremely easy to spend a fortune on novels, I’m a regular visitor to our local charity shop, where all of the children’s books are 30p (and the adult paperbacks are an absolute bargain, at three for £1.50 too).

I take Immy to the library once a week, where she’ll pick books for herself and Theo – and I have friends who swap children’s books, once they’ve read them a few times, too.

It can be a completely free hobby.

So while you’re snuggling up on the sofa this week with your little ones, maybe consider turning off the movie and picking up a book.

I can guarantee, you’ll all live happily ever after (for the next 10 minutes anyway!).  

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]. 

Share your views in the comments below.

MORE : Britney Spears’ sons ‘heartbroken’ reading about her abortion in memoir

MORE : Daniel Radcliffe admits to reading Harry Potter fan fiction about himself

MORE : Kate Winslet gives surprise CBeebies bedtime story in pyjamas at festival

It’s the thing I treasure most about my day.