Ohh, Peepo.
When I was a children's librarian, many years ago, I used to read that book, and long, and long, and long, to have children of my own so that I could read it to them.
And when I did, after many long years, have my own children, someone bought me a copy. And then I was the 'mother with a baby, just like him'.
Pause to mop up.
I also cried (in public) the first time my children encountered a Father Christmas at a toddler group -- because I remembered all those years when I thought I would never be able to tell my children about Father Christmas.
Oh goodness me, how sentimental am I?