At least I think it's #3.
This week's confession is: (drumroll, please):
I must read something while I'm...uh...dropping the kids off at the pool.
And if I'm not reading, I'm playing this:
My beloved Yahtzee has a place of honor on the back of the toilet. Once, tired of my bragging about my gigondously high score, my husband replaced the batteries. Wiped out my score, the bastard. If he does it again, I might have to go Lorena Bobbitt on him.
If I'm into a good book or magazine article, I might be in there until my a** gets numb. (Plus it gets me some peace and quiet for a while. Husband is deathly afraid of my aftermath. As he should be.) At someone else's house? I just find something in there to read. A shampoo bottle, condom wrappers, whatever might be within reasonable reach. I do not go into medicine cabinets or drawers looking for reading material, however. I'm too paranoid that the homeowner would find out I was snooping.
This whole reading phenomenon is not just limited to the bathroom for me, BTW. I read e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e I can. Riding in the car, eating by myself at the table, before bed, while watching TV, on the porch, in a box, with a fox, on a boat, with a goat ---(whoops, sorry. Read Green Eggs and Ham to munchkin tonight). I have been doing this ever since I learned how to read (my uncle and siblings swear I was 2 1/2 yrs old - I don't remember exactly but I know it was before nursery school). It's a habit...bordering on a sickness, really. But I LOVE it.
I feel cleansed. Thanks for listening.
TruCoTuesday hasn't caught on quite yet...play it with me!