Reading. I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was little my dad used to read to me every night. Even when I learned to read myself, my dad would read to me. He’d come in and let me pick out a book for him to read. Through my advanced powers of persuasion (i.e. saying please, being adorable and the baby of the family) I usually could get him to read three or four a night. I would make all kinds of promises about cleaning my room and getting up early just so daddy would read to me more. He read every Dr. Seuss book I had and Berenstein Bears books…and my personal favorite: The Very Hungry Caterpillar… backwards. Yup. Backwards. My dad is and was amazing. I would often continue reading after he left me to go to sleep. My parents would wake up to a pile of books haphazardly thrown onto the floor next to my bed. I was voracious.
Now, decades later, I don’t like being assigned to read things, but I still enjoy reading. Some books I relish and finish in a week or less. Some I don’t enjoy as much, but force my way through it because I have this innate need to finish things (most of the time.) An example of this desire to finish something I don’t enjoy would be the book Orange is the New Black. I loved the Netflix series. I’m struggling with the book, but I’m half way through, so I’m going to make it happen.
That isn’t particularly relevant except that this last Saturday I went to my very first Book Club Meeting. Yep, I am in a book club. A large group of girls who I know through kickball and friends of friends get together monthly (I think…I’m new, I don’t know things yet) after reading a book one of the members has chosen and discuss the book over snacks. Or that’s what I thought book clubs were like. Ours is a bit different.
Some people didn’t read the book at all. Some people were still finishing it when we got there. Some people had been long done with it. It didn’t matter. The book seemed to be the secondary purpose of getting together. Primarily we were there to eat, drink and hang out. Some of the girls are married with kids and enjoy the day to have girl time. Some of the girls are workaholics who need a reason to relax and enjoy their 20s and 30s. Some of the girls are me.
So at 1pm on a Saturday we began drinking mimosas and wine. We snacked on veggies, baked ziti, fruit with amaze-balls fruit dip, meatballs, pumpkin bars, cookies and garlic bread. We chatted away for hours and most of the time it wasn’t about the book at all. Punctuated by one person reading the end of the book and shouting revelations she can just come across, we had a “ladies of leisure” Saturday. That is, until it came time to play the book club board game.
Since I am new to the group, I do not know if the format of this game is set in stone or just happened to be the format for this book, but it was a Jeopardy style game about the book (and, just for good measure, sometimes about sushi rolls.) It was very well themed to the book, aside from the sushi roll category, and a TON of fun. Plus, my team won, which is good because I’m a raging competitor by nature.
Anyway, I’m not sure where this blog was going other than to point out how awesome our book club is and how it’s probably way better than yours. Also, I really miss my daddy reading to me. I wonder if he’d do it when I’m home for Thanksgivukkah just for the hell of it. I know for fact that my nephew has a copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar I am dying to hear backwards again…