I love reading. I make no excuses that I am a nerd and a book whore. I'm sorry. I had to get it out. It stuns me when people don't understand this addiction. Like my husband. He's a well educated, intelligent, accomplished man. He reads the paper, his scriptures, lesson manuals, and an occasional book. Novels? Rarely. But I don't get why he doesn't read books more. More than 4 books a year. I'm not being critical of him. I just don't get it.
I am an educator. I am surrounded by people who loved learning and reading so much they decided to make it their profession. Right? Well, not so much. Last graduation I packed a book in my purse and sat through the welcome, the talks, the song, the announcing of the names (okay, I stood up on the stage for that part and shook hands) and yada, yada. The graduates march outside where there is much hugging and Kodak moments and eventually they return their caps and gowns at the table and collect the real diploma. We're down to the last few whose grandparents flew in from Tonga and all the aunts and uncles are piling leis made out of saran wrap and candy. More hugging. More kissing. And we're just standing there when Allison leans over to me and says, "I'm going to go find someplace to read." She opens her purse and shows me her book. We find a quiet patch of grass out of the way and sit down.
"Nancy! Allison! What are you doing? You actually brought books? It's summer!" or "What are you reading?" Hello! We're educators. Have some respect. Obviously, we can't read and talk at the same time. They've spent all school year with us. I really, really, really want to find out what happens to Katniss, Peta, and Gale. See, Allison and I "get" each other.
My husband, and incidentally, others believe it is a simple task to simply close a book and go to bed, eat dinner with the family, or whatever it is they think I should be doing. The ending is going to be the same. The story is still going to be there when I return and all the other stuff they say to ridicule my intellect. Clearly, it is a jealousy issue. I look incredibly sexy behind a book.
But let's go back to that reasoning - the ending will still be the same and the story is still going to be there. I've tried to explain that it will eat at me until I find out what happens but to no avail. Today I came up with a fantastic object lesson, at least for my husband's benefit. Next time we DVR a football game and offensive is fourth and goal, the quarterback's arm is cocked to pass, the game is hinging on this play, I'm going to turn the t.v. off.
What? The outcome is the same. It's still going to be there when you get back to it tomorrow morning. Different mood? Endorphins will be worn off? Have to back it up two plays to remember what the specifics are? Ahhh.
Now excuse me. Just one more chapter.