the library book
Last weekend, against my better judgment, I let Ali borrow a book from the library.
I know what you’re thinking: “Ameena, must you control every single aspect of your poor husband’s life, including his reading material?”
Of course I must. And in a minute you’ll understand why.
Me: “Ali? Did you forget that you don’t read books?”
Ali: “It’s a long weekend so I just want to have it on hand. Just in case.”
Me: “So then why don’t you pick a book with a 3 week time frame instead of a new release? This one has to be returned within 7 days.”
This last statement was met with silence. Likely because it made sense and Ali often has no response to things that make sense.
Saturday: The book remains by the front door, untouched.
Sunday: I move the book next to Ali’s computer so he’ll notice it. He doesn’t notice it.
Monday, 8:15pm: Ali says, “There is nothing on TV tonight. See? I’m so glad I have a book now.” He shoots me a triumphant look.
Monday, 8:23pm: As expected, Ali puts the book back on the table and turns on Shark Tank instead.
Tuesday – Thursday: The book is staring me in the face. Begging me to return it before I forget about it.
Friday 5:30pm: I tell Maya, “Dad’s library book needs to be returned and he won’t be home tonight. We need to drop it off before we go to dinner with your uncle.”
Friday 6:15pm: I tell Maya, “We forgot to return Dad’s flipping book and now the library is closed.”
Friday 6:16pm: Maya says, “Dad doesn’t know anything about anything.”
I wish I could say I told Maya “not to talk about her father like that” but I didn’t. I guess I forgot?
Kind of like someone forgot to return their library book….