I've been married for almost 15 years to an adjectives-can't-describe-how-wonderful-he-is man. And then, last week, he drops a bombshell. This wouldn't be a big deal to most people, but I'm not a normal person (my hubby would have a field day with that statement). You see, he knows how much I love books: the weight of them in my hands, their come-hither covers that beckon from across a crowded bookstore, the smell of their delicious pages. I have overflowing bookcases all over my house attesting to this obsession. Yet my dear hubby announces that when the new version of "this thing" comes out in April, he's getting it:
I'll admit that I'm part of a dying breed, and that I might be an eighty-year-old woman trapped in a thirty-something's body, but my hubby knew that when he married me (e.g. he informed me that I'm the only person under eighty who reads Reader's Digest.) Sadly, my hubby isn't the only source of betrayal. I can include my sister and most of my book club among the ship jumpers. No one in my book club had an e-reader several years ago. Now, 8 of the 11 women swear by their Kindles, Nooks, and other artificial books, and one of the three hold-outs is looking into getting one. Only one other woman in the group wants nothing to do with them because she loves her old-school books as much as I do *winks at Christy.*.
The only upshot to all this is that since my hubby and I are both psychologists, we can do the marital therapy on our own...because we clearly need it.
How many of you out there have converted to the dark side? Any other old-fashioned books lovers out there? Am I really the only person under 80 who reads Reader's Digest?