Exotic yet ordinary

I rescued my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows from the evil chain store shortly after midnight and made it back to the house just after 1:00AM. I changed into my night clothes lickety split, hunkered down in bed, heavy book in hand, kissed the husband goodnight, and began to read. Out loud. At his request. He had waited up, you see, and he asked so nicely, after all, and although I really dislike reading out loud (I get the intonation all wrong and inevitably jumble words and I don't do voices for the characters, sorry) I decided a few chapters read out loud initially, just until he falls asleep, would be okay. And when I wake up, I can charge ahead. Silently.

759 pages later, I'm still reading aloud. By the time we finished the book 1:15-ish Monday morning, my tongue felt abnormally... thick... as though it had been subjected to an engorgement charm. Apparently, reading out loud for hours upon hours upon HOURS on end does that. But, it was worth it. It was fun to have someone to go through the book with, someone who also snickered as we read about Voldemort stroking his angry snake, and who misheard me when I reached the bit about roses in buttonholes.

The book was great. It's difficult to talk about it without giving too much away, but I will say this: I TOLD you so!