Bookstore!

"Do you want to go to the bookstore?"

I have no idea why the kid asked me that question. More specifically, I have no idea why it was a question. Do I want to go to a bookstore? Only every single waking moment that my nose isn't in a book do I want to be in a place surrounded by books. Maybe if I were in a library I wouldn't want to be in a bookstore, and that's likely only a maybe. Do I want to go? Sheesh. OF COURSE I WANT TO GO TO A BOOKSTORE. I WILL EVEN GO WITH A SMALL PERSON WHO DOESN'T LOVE BOOKS, I WANT TO GO THAT MUCH.

When I said, "Yes," and stood up, he started giggling. "Why are you laughing?"

"Daddy said you'd say, 'Yes.'"

Yeah, well, the stack of books next to me should have told you yes, too, kid.

The question that maybe he should have asked was, "Why aren't you in the car with C on her drive to Phoenix?" Seriously, THAT is the question I'm asking myself as I hear the wind blowing across the roof, hear the house creaking in response, and see the snow blowing past the front window. Why am I not at this very moment driving west, having spent yesterday driving south?