October 3 Editorial

By: Kelly Woodard

Last week while on vacation, my husband stumbled upon my stash of books that I brought to read while by the pool or while he napped. Not normally one to open a book without pictures, I was surprised to find that he was a chapter or so into The Hunger Games.
I had already read the entire series, and had been begging my husband to read them so that we could talk about what we thought might happen and compare opinions before seeing the movies together. To me, a self-proclaimed bookworm and literature nerd, this sounded like the best night ever, but he expressed that he would rather set himself on fire. But to my surprise, there he was reading away.
“What’s gotten into you,” I asked expecting a snide remark. Instead, he replied like an eager little boy, “This book is so good!” I thought about adding an ‘I told you so’, but I’m learning to choose my battles.
For the next five days, he barely came up for air. His afternoon naps got shorter and his bathroom trips got longer. Much longer. Everywhere he went, The Hunger Games went too.
Although I was glad he was reading I was feeling kind of lonely. I did however find solace in the casino where I learned a few important lessons like how to count on my fingers and toes at lightning fast speed and that Blackjack is not my game.
When the trip was over, I thought that he would lose interest in the book and return to his normal self. I was wrong. Within a day or two of returning home he was finished with book one.
When Saturday rolled around, I donned my normal football gear and dressed the dogs in their “rally jerseys”. I opened two beers and headed to the living room for our usual college football marathon, but stopped in my tracks when I rounded the corner finding the LSU vs Georgia game on the TV and my husband’s face buried in the second book, Catching Fire, oblivious to excitement on the field. His man card was in serious jeopardy.
Although I know the books can be consuming, I had to stage an intervention. Like a child who hasn’t finished his homework, his “toy” had to be taken away. He pouted at first, but came around to the guy I know and love after being force-fed a few beers and some Velveeta cheese dip. Oh the things a woman has to be prepared for.
When Sunday morning rolled around, I gave my little reader’s book back and watched in shock as he turned the TV off and sat in silence for hours, reading away. I was almost startled when he broke the quiet time to ask, “So who does she end up with?” A warm feeling that I had never experienced welled up inside me. “I can’t tell you that! It would ruin it for you,” I replied, all the while hoping he would never stop reading so that I could share more moments like this with him.
It’s funny how when you’re with someone for so long you think you know everything there is to know about them. That week, I learned something new about my husband. It may have taken a while, but the dream of sitting there snuggled up in a blanket reading our books and discussing them finally came true.
It is refreshing to know that we can still surprise each other, and although reading has always been my thing, we can now share the hobby. I guess it’s my turn to try something new for him. I just hope the activity he wants me to pick up doesn’t involve excessive scratching or killing something.