There's a book I was dying to have, The Help. Being it's a bestseller, it's right up front the minute I walked in the door. I held it, fondled it, caressed it gently.
"The book club is reading this for the January meeting." I said.
"Then get it." Martha responded.
"I can't. I'm trying to do the steps, remember."
She grabbed it from me. "It'll be your Christmas gift."
I admit I knew full well what I was doing. She'd buy the book for me without too much whining on my part. As long as I didn't pay for it, I'm still on track, right? Please tell me I am.
We walked up and down the aisles commenting on books we'd read or wanted to read. The urge to touch the books, stroking the beautiful covers, hoping the words would seep through my hands directly to my soul, overwhelmed me. I only touched. I didn't ask for a shopping cart.
Martha picked out a few more items and we went to check out. Does the fact that I let her use my discount card let me off the hook? Or that I promised to send her the book when I was finished with it? There was another book I wanted but couldn't remember the name or the author. I never located it so I couldn't trap her into buying it for me which was clearly in the back of my mind. I left the store empty handed. God works in mysterious ways, doesn't He?
My friends who are well versed in the steps scolded me for skipping to step 7. I must start at #1. I must admit I am powerless over books and that my life has become unmanageable.
I admit I am powerless. Walking into a book store turns me to mush. With 76 unread books on the shelf, my life is unmanageable. But that didn't stop me from tricking my sister into buying me a book. I guess I have some more work to do on that one.
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