I'm not entirely sure that I remember my parents reading this to me, but I'm almost positive at least one of them did. Probably my dad. He seems to be the one jumping out at me in my memory. I haven't read this book in FOREVER, at least 20 years.
Description from GoodReads:
I vaguely remember some kind of cartoon movie being watched after I'd finished listening to the story. This book is one of those that gives me warm and fuzzy feelings. Nostalgia if you will. Along with books like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Matilda, James and the Giant Peach... this is one of those times I'm sad my oldest doesn't like books and my youngest is too young to enjoy me reading her books that aren't 20 pages long and full of pictures. ::sigh:: Maybe'll I'll have to read them again for myself, just because. :-)
Evidently not even Roald Dahl could resist the acronym craze of the early eighties. BFG? Bellowing ferret-faced golfer? Backstabbing fairy godmother? Oh, oh ... Big Friendly Giant! This BFG doesn't seem all that F at first as he creeps down a London street, snatches little Sophie out of her bed, and bounds away with her to giant land. And he's not really all that B when compared with his evil, carnivorous brethren, who bully him for being such an oddball runt. After all, he eats only disgusting snozzcumbers, and while the other Gs are snacking on little boys and girls, he's blowing happy dreams in through their windows. What kind of way is that for a G to behave?
The BFG is one of Dahl's most lovable character creations. Whether galloping off with Sophie nestled into the soft skin of his ear to capture dreams as though they were exotic butterflies; speaking his delightful, jumbled, squib-fangled patois; or whizzpopping for the Queen, he leaves an indelible impression of bigheartedness.