The nice fat Christmas addition that was calling out to me with all its
teal and red and silver loveliness.
But could I find a slow langurous moment to peruse it? No, I could not.
I had it in my possession for a full week without cracking a page.
So this last Friday night, I raced to my room after dinner,
threw myself down on the bed, and yelled out to Scott,
"I just need 10 minutes to look at this magazine."
Hoping that that would give him the heads up to keep the children away
for a few measly minutes so I could escape into the realm of beauty and order
and magazine pages thick with Christmas decorations and $10 gift ideas.
I had barely skimmed the table of contents before 3 boys with enough energy
to power a nuclear reactor came racing into the room, jumping on the bed,
crawling under the bed, putting small fingers in my face and trying to make
As I tried to turn pages, they sang songs to me, they petted my hair and
said things like, "What are you doing, Mom?" "Can I see, Mom?"
"Why are you in your room, Mom?"
Finally, Jack got down at eye level with me and said,
"Mom, why are you looking at pictures of people in a magazine when you have REAL people RIGHT HERE who want to be with you?"
So. The magazine was flung to the side as it should have been.
And I proceeded to tackle my children on the bed.
Because apparently there were REAL people who wanted to be with me.
And no magazine really compares to that.