Afternoon Reading

I intended to spend the day working. Really, I did. And for half the day, I did work. But then I glanced over to the bookshelf. There I saw the book that I had purchased several months ago at the used bookstore. I bought it for my son, but at nine years old, he's not quite old enough to understand it, so it has sat, unopened, on the bookshelf.

I picked it up and began to read. And kept reading. Not bad, for a children's book.

An hour went by. Two hours. It was a Friday afternoon; I had already worked 50 hours that week, and what I had planned to do wasn't terribly urgent, so I kept on reading, without feeling too guilty. I love it when I'm into something, and lose track of time, as I did that day. Usually I keep one eye on the clock, but on that day, I had the freedom to set my own time.

The book is finished now. Too bad. But in another year or two, I'll be able to read it again, this time out loud to Ethan -- unless he'd rather read it to himself. If that's the case, then I'll just have to go out and get the next book in the series, and read that.