When I was little, my grandparents had two guest rooms. One was pretty typical: a double bed, nightstands, and a chest full of extra quilts. The other was the grandkid room. It had a hideous woven tweed hide-a-bed couch, a closet with a tub of plastic toys, a hexagon end table full of VHS tapes, and a TV. My brother and I would lay on the hide-a-bed, eat ice cream out of vintage Corelle teacups, and watch movies before going to sleep. The Wizard of Oz and Land Before Time 2-4 were our top picks. Why not the original Land Before Time? She didn’t have it. But that is neither here nor there—today I discuss my first and second read-throughs of L. Frank Baum’s book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and how it struck me as someone who grew up with the film.