My husband announced this past Saturday evening he would clean the garage on Sunday morning. "What will you be doing while I do that?" he asked.
"I'll clean the house and mop the floor," I replied. "But just so you know, it may look like I'm reading. But I won't be reading...I'll be cleaning."
"OK," said he.
The next morning I cleaned furiously while the coffee brewed, then settled into my chair with a hot cup and a great book. My husband usually sleeps in on Sundays, affording me an hour or more of uninterrupted reading time. Eventually, he emerged. After our good mornings were said, we had the following conversation:
"What are you doing?" he asked.
I adjusted my blanket, snuggled into my reading nest, took a sip of coffee and said, without even winking, "Cleaning."
"I'll be in the garage" he laughed.
Every bookworm should be married to one of two types of men: 1) the guy who reads just as much as you do, or 2) the guy who not only puts up with your volume of reading, but supports it and accommodates it.
I did finally mop the floor that day--it's not too hard to hold a book in one hand and a Swiffer in the other.
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