Normally, my time in the bathroom is sacred. I like to take whatever book I happen to be reading and enjoy the solitude and quiet for a chapter or two while I take care of business. If there was a Dad Bill of Rights, I would put this somewhere below always opening the pickle jar and somewhere above always getting the stuff off the top shelf. It’s just part of being a dad.
Recently, there was somewhat of a dilemma. My wife and I finished the first book in the Hunger Games series around the same time (terrific books, by the way). She then bought the second and third book for her Nook because we both thought that I would be able to read it on my Kobo as well. I’ll be honest and say that the policies with ebooks still confuse me somewhat. This wasn’t actually the case, so one of us would have to wait until the other was done reading the books before they could start. Since they were on my wife’s Nook, I decided to make the ultimate sacrifice and let her read the two books first. This also helps to save her sanity. If I read a book first, I constantly feel the need to ask her what part she is on, which drives her absolutely bonkers. If she reads the book first, she mostly leaves me alone (as much as she’s capable of anyway).
This left me in the unfortunate position of not really having a book to read. There’s a ton of different novels lined up in my queue, but I knew that my wife would fly though these particular books in record time, so I didn’t want to start one. Unfortunately, she can’t read quite fast enough to finish both books before I need to “visit the library." We let our subscription to National Geographic expire awhile back, so what was a guy to do? Should I just go in, take care of business, and leave? Of course not. Should I just grab one of my favorite books from the past and read a couple chapters? That’s promising, but I wasn’t in the mood.
I decide that this would be a great time to catch up on some of the blog posts that I’ve missed over the past few days. Therefore, I grab my laptop, open up my RSS feed, lock the door behind me, and start reading some blogs. I’m not going to lie. It was a little awkward. The laptop doesn’t sit quite as well as a book. If I felt the need to comment on a person’s post, it became a balancing act of typing with both hands without letting the computer slip off my lap. In the end, though, it accomplished the mission. I was able to get through quite a few posts and return to my normally scheduled duties. I’m pretty sure that my wife saw me leaving the bathroom with my computer, but thankfully, she decided not to say anything. Personally, I’m not sure if I should be proud or ashamed. Maybe, I should be a little bit of both.