I am sitting at the kitchen table trying desperately to finish "The Time Traveler's Wife" before book club tonight. Work is on hold after a couple of hours, and the Wii is babysitting my monsters for the moment.
Dry, shaken sobs start to rack through me as I near the end of the book. I know what's going to happen. It even tells you it's going to happen. But as the words in front of me take shape in my mind, in my heart...
I can't help but feel like I KNOW these people. They're not characters in a book anymore, they're people you've gotten to know in the last 500 pages. I've been talking to them silently in my head as I've been catching up with them, laughing out loud, causing hubby to take a curious peek at me.
Silly, silly girl. It's just a book. What are you crying for? I laugh at myself, at the sight of me. At the idea of it. I need to break up these emotions, take the edge off... and stuff my face with fries to keep my tears at bay.
Now I really AM a sight to see.
I imagine one of my sons hopping in to the kitchen, ready for lunch... stopping in his tracks and apprehensively coming to my side to ask, "Why are you crying, Mom?"
Because of a book?
"Because your Mom is a dork. That's all."
(sigh) But I ain't ashamed. ;)
Any other book lovers out there?
