Thursday 3 May 2012

Humility and humiliation...I just love boys!

So we've opted for 50 Shades of Grey in Book Club and I thought I was going to have to order it via the Library and risk being spotted up to no good by the eternal busybodies that make up country life when a friend up and volunteered her copy.
"For God's sake take it, " she said. "I've got to get it out of the house before my husband sees what it really is all about. He says he's never seen me so engrossed and I just couldn't cope if he knew. It was bad enough when he caught me reading Twilight!"
I know that feeling. There are some things you just don't want your other half knowing about you. Sod stretch marks and VPL and the fact that you only shave to your knees if they knew what you read...well that's getting just too personal. I don't care that I have been married to him for nigh on 13 years I don't like any censure when I read. I don't like people....
Knowing.
When I lived in London I couldn't read on the Tube not because most of the time I found myself squashed up against a stranger's nether regions or else stuffed under their arm pit, it was because I didn't want them to know too much about me or to judge me in any way.
So when I was offered the loan of the book I grabbed at the chance. I knew the book would be delivered to me discreetly and no one would be any the wiser.
BUT
I hadn't reckoned on my youngest or his newly found reading skills...
My lovely friend had popped the infamous book in Bog Boy's book bag for me to collect at the end of the day. I was waving to him merrily as he came out of class when I noticed him delve into the bag.
Everything went into slow motion.
I knew what he was about to do right there in the middle of the school yard where everyone could see.
"Mum," he yelled, his pure young voice ringing out securing everyone's attention as can only happen when you desperately want to hide. "What's this in my book bag?"
He took the tome out and started to wave it about for all to see.
I struggled to get to him through the hordes of children impeding my way.
"Just a book Darling for Mummy pop it back in your book bag..."
"It's called 50 Shades of Grey," he hollered, "What's it about...?"
Ah yes indeed...I cast a furtive and slightly panicky look round. It's funny how you can see immediately those in the know and can read exactly what they think from their faces.
There were a few too many knowing smirks as I hastily grabbed the book, face aflame and stuffed it into my hand bag.
Bang goes any pretence at subtlety and bang goes my previously spotless reputation...so looking forward to tomorrow morning's drop off!

 

7 comments:

Gappy said...

Ha! Bet you anything they'll all be sidling up to you in the next few days asking to borrow it!

Suburbia said...

At least he didn't get it out in class and try to read it! Or did he???!

Irene said...

That's kind of a misplaced shame, don't you think? You are an adult and so are they. I'm sure you are all capable of handling the more serious literature. Is everybody turning prude suddenly? What sort of society do you live in? Don't make the claim that you care one bit. xox

Rob-bear said...

Nothing is hidden that shall not be shouted from the housetops. Or something like that.

Blessings and Bear hugs on the occasion of you "misadventure."

Expat mum said...

My 8 year old is not only a good reader but incredibly nosy. He's forever leaning over my shoulder and reading blog posts - like this! I have to be a closet commenter these days!

Pondside said...

I believe that there is something transmitted by those things we wish to keep under wrap - perhaps they glow, or emit a sound heard only by aged mothers and young sons. Anyway, I've seen my mother go right to a drawer in the dining room (up to then my favorite hiding place) and innocently ask 'what's in here'.
Good luck!

About Last Weekend said...

Now I really do have to read this book. I do worry about my kids reading the rubbishy magazines that I buy, but mostly they won't go near a book (more's the pity usually)

Go on you know you want to...

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