"Good to see you, too, my son!" I leaned over and kissed his forehead while simultaneously trying to find the right page to sign him out. I consider myself fortunate that at 11 years old, Jack still doesn't mind displays of affection.
"You are exactly one hour and three minutes early," he declared, looking at the clock.
"I'm glad you feel that way," I said, steering him toward the door. "I was feeling a little guilty that I didn't pick you up earlier." I was already on Spring Break, so there really had been no reason not to pick him up.
"I'm sure you were busy," he magnanimously replied.
"Um, yeah. I was busy reading."
"Then I totally forgive you," he said.
Thank goodness he's a fellow reader!
Knowing I had a receptive audience, I proceeded to launch into a detailed description of the book I was reading that lasted all the way to the car.
"That sounds like a good book," he said once I finished.
From there, our conversation naturally led to a discussion of the Harry Potter series, which is what he is currently working his way through. As I drove to the high school to pick up his brother, we continued to talk about books, one reader to another. Who needs to join a book club when you have your very own personal book club in the back seat of your car?
We arrived at my older son Jared's school early, so instead of circling the parking lot until he appeared, I pulled into a spot to wait. I handed Jack his copy of The Goblet of Fire that was sitting on the front seat and pulled out The War That Saved My Life from my purse. There we sat, two readers lost in two very different worlds, yet bound together by our love for each other and the magic of reading.