So, I picked up #1, thinking I would just check it out. I had already mocked my brother for being so enthralled by a kids' book. Needless to say, I was equally enthralled and was one of those nerds who had my name on a list at Barnes and Noble 3 months before the release of #7 to assure I got my hot little hands on a copy. Now, I wasn't dorkish enough to actually be at the door at midnight. I patiently waited until the next day at 9am. I was also not dorkish enough to read it in one day (ahem, big brother)...
I have now spread the joy to the eldest son. Max requested that we start reading them about a month ago, and we are now up to #3, which he rabidly brings to me any time I sit down on the couch. "Can we read some more Harry Potter mom! Please, please!" I don't know how the woman makes a book that is as interesting to a 6 year old as it is to a 36 year old, but she certainly does. Our favorite reading time is after the twins leave with Omar in the morning, heading for daycare, but before Max's school bus arrives.
Not only does Max want to read the book constantly, but I realize I have forgotten much of the story since I started reading them years ago. So there we are this morning, fully pulled into the world of Diagon Alley, wondering about Sirius Black and his escape from Azkaban.... when we see a strangely familiar orange blur go past the window. Right.... the school bus.
It is negative 17 degrees out. I am not invoking hyperbole here. It is ACTUALLY negative 17 degrees here in Minneapolis. And I just blew off the school bus. Now I (the one who told my husband my one goal for the day was to not leave the house until I go to work at 6pm) have to pack up the kindergartner and the 4 month old into the car and head to school.
Stupid Harry Potter....
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