Son-Two is the rabid Potter fan in our household. He preordered his copy from Amazon with his birthday money in January. The copy was in our mailbox at 10:24 Saturday morning. Despite Son-Two's elaborate surveillance system (including repeatedly sending his little sister outside to check if the mail truck was on our street), I was the one who saw the mailman first.
The box was open in seconds and off Son-Two went with a grin and a "See ya' later." He holed up in his room until I dragged him out around 2 p.m. for food. This is the boy who's usually first in line at the buffet, who eats a staggering amount of food (since he's been blessed with his father's physique and metabolism, it's all converted instantly into sculpted muscle--it's an unjust world), who will do Matrix-worthy manuevers to get that last pork chop or last anything remotely edible left on the plate. Yet, in the grip of Rowling's spell food was completely forgotten. I am in awe of her skills...
Except for another mother-enforced visit to the kitchen around 10 last night, he was in his room, reading for at least fourteen hours straight. He claims he's a slow reader, but he slept face-down on page 458, so I don't think he's doing badly.
There's been some insinuation around the house that I'm a neglectful mother for not purchasing additional copies since there's a line behind him for this copy, which is, technically, his. I think it's the height of generosity that I didn't use my pull around here to cut to the head of the line.
I Am Not a Wimp
5 hours ago