After out trip to the gorgeous city of Savannah, me and the bubs both read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. We both mostly liked it too. Now usually, the mister sticks to history books - generally presidential history concerning the founding fathers or Abraham Lincoln. He's what you might call a "buff." I read all over the map, and, while I have increased my nonfiction reading thanks to my 101 list, I tend towards more fluffish nonfiction.
I had a (I thought) genius idea. My husband and I could start our own two person bookclub. We'd alternate choosing that month's book. This would expand both our readings and give us something extra to discuss. I graciously gave the mister the first choice.
After an onnoxiously snowy weekend, we ventured out to the bookstore on Sunday. Not to buy the book since I'm an avid library card user, just to browse and for him to pick said book. After some wandering around, he admits that he'd actually made his choice a few days before.
"Oh," asks me all innocent and brightly, "What are we reading?"
"There's a book by Grant that's supposed to be really good. His memoirs!"
"Ullysses S. Grant," I ask thinking that I'll never get this boy outta the Civil War.
"Yep, it's supposed to be really good Here it is."
And the man holds aloft a fricking brick of a book triumphantly. I wait for him to crack a smile and laugh himself silly. It doesn't happen.
"That's enormous. Does it cover everything?"
"His whole life. He didn't really want to write it, but had to cause he was broke."
"Was he paid by the word?"
Glowering looks from my boy.
I try again, "So you really want to kick off our little project with an enormous book by a long dead man who was not a writer who didn't want to even write his book?"
More glowering looks. "I thought I had the first pick."
"But this book is like 5 books! I'll never stay awake to read the entire thing!"
"So you'd rather I picked something like that?" he asks, pointing at a book titled The Civil War for Dummies.
At this point, I wallop him and grumblingly, we leave the store.
This morning, I looked the book up via the library's website. It is 1,199 pages long. I made one last emailed plea to my husband to come up with another pick. If I can't convince him, you can bet I'll be spending many painful weeks cursing this man: