I’m so proud of you guys. Tear. I’m not alone in my gas station sandwich trepidation. The rest of you, we will convert you, somehow. My brain doesn’t fully engage on Monday mornings, so you guys were a riot. I think a found a new blog tradition: Ask the Audience Mondays. We will solve all of the problems of the world. You know, harsher punishment for parole violators Stan. And world peace!
One day last month, I was trying to get some organizing done around the house. Translation: try to clean the house enough to even find the stuff that needs organized, wind up exhausted, poor a drink, and sit on the couch watching Two and a Half Men. I heart organizing. I had great intentions this time though, I bought a few large storage bins and I was seriously pondering taking action. While I was plotting my approach, my darling daughter played quietly in the other room. Instead of basking in my good fortune, I immediately realized something must be wrong.
I turned the corner and found Kate doing some organizing of her own. I have a bookshelf that my dear husband built that is full of books. I am not talking about a wimpy little bookshelf. I am talking about a My Bookshelf Could Beat Up Your Bookshelf kind of shelf. It is 8 feet tall by 10 feet wide and takes up one entire wall of my office. Kate had taken all of my storage bins and filled them with books FROM the bookshelf, many, many, many books. Before I had a chance to freak out and ground her until she turned 18, I saw her sitting in one of the bins, engrossed in a book. Her brow was furrowed, eyes intently focused, as she slowly flipped the pages.
click to enlarge
When I saw what she was reading, I swelled with pride. I know, I know, she can't read. Isn't that even more impressive? She's so smart she's pretending to read Salinger. For the record, she gets her good taste from me. Like mother, like daughter. I think this is proof that she’s totally destined to be a nerd. Nerds are making a comeback, no?