Bookworm

So my brother is ten years old, and aspires to be a librarian (like my mother). I hope he always stays so darn cute, because if he doesn't I'll be severely depressed. A few hours past his usual bedtime of 8:30, I'll find him huddled in the corner of his bed, eyes glazed over, staring at a book that cannot be finished the next day, but rather HAS to be finished that night, no matter what the hour. While my parents holler from the downstairs living for him to turn the light off and go to bed I'm secretly cheering for him to drag out the ol' flashlight and resume his reading under cover. Why? Because right now (in addition to last night and the night before), I've been eating up books like there's no tomorrow. And I'm serious; I actually can't wait to finish it the next day! I've been obsessed with Emily Giffin books ever since I read Something Blue, Love the One You're With, and Something Borrowed this summer (My absolute favorite place to read is out on my front lawn, in my bathing suit, with some cool shades and a cool drink. This of course ends when a huge spider randomly scuttles over my exposed stomach. It is then that I pack up and head to the safety of the great indoors. Anyways, this winter break I've continued to plow through these books and I've successfully finished Baby Proof and I'm almost done with Heart of the Matter. Let's hope that I don't suddenly have the usual spark of enthusiasm and reckless courage to try and read 300 more pages tonight. Or shall I say, "this morning" as it is now 12:02 in the morning.