My dad read to me every night, and my earliest memory of that was when we lived in what we call "the old house." The attic had been finished into two bedrooms, and mine had a window that overlooked the street. Every night, my dad would read a book to me, and then we'd sit in front of the window and play an absolutely stellar and very complicated game called "I think I see a car coming." (It was a tremendous day when I figured out how my dad always won - the bastard knew to look for the headlights!)
What books did my dad read me? He-Man books, AWWWW YEAHHHH. That's how I learned to read. He would read them and read them, and then start reading them with the wrong words, which I found endlessly entertaining. I would correct him, and he'd tell me I was wrong, that He-Man was in fact fighting the Poo-Poo Monsters, and I would have to point out the actual word and what it said.
03. Your favourite book aged 9 ½, or 13 ¾, whichever you remember best.
I can't remember with anything approaching that level of specificity, but one of my favorite books in elementary school was My Teacher is an Alien, by Bruce Coville; as far as middle school goes, that's when I started reading adult fiction, so I'd say probably The Stand by Stephen King, or maybe The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice. (LOL, one of my mom's favorite stories was the day my 6th grade language arts teacher called her to let her know that I was reading Interview With a Vampire and maybe she and my dad would want to have a talk with me about what was acceptable reading material, and my mom told her that my dad had given me that book to read. She said there was literally twenty solid seconds of silence from the teacher before she meekly hung up.)