As you all know, I'm on tour for THIS LITTLE MOMMY STAYED HOME.
(Oooh, sounds so good, doesn't it?) Actually, I'm with my husband for a conference and up for a book reading at the local Borders. I visited the store today with wet (from rain and lake play) children where I was greeted with a great picture of the book and announcement of the event on the door.
But then, I couldn't find the book.
Now, I'm a humble person. (Ah-hum.) So I wasn't going to go searching or ASK. God forbid I ask for my own book. Instead, I moved on to the kids section where I spent a lot of time delineating the differences between book stores (NO, you can't take it home) and libraries (where you can take it home but you can't step on it).
As we moved out, two wet umbrellas, two tired children, one slightly bewildered looking woman furtively searching for her debut novel, my son said: "Look, Mama, it's the same baby." He tugged on my hand to pull me back and pointed at an enormous display that contained--you guessed it,
MY BOOK. And even better: ONLY my book.
Wow. It was like Danielle Steele or something, they had so many copies. I was tempted to take a picture but couldn't endure such a display of self-gratifying humiliation. (Or something like that. Don't expect fancy words. These feelings are new for me. I don't know what to call them.)
I sauntered out. Still with two wet children and two wet umbrellas and myself. But, hey, I sauntered.
So if you're in the heartbreakingly beautiful state of Vermont, come on Thursday at 7 p.m. to Borders in Burlington and after my reading (which I promise will make you wish you'd worn Depends--if your post partum body is anything like mine [from laughing, not from free drinks]) and I will sign a copy just for you!