As soon as I got home, I sat down and read the last few pages of The Devil Wears Prada. And guess what? It sucked. Just like the rest of the book. And I actually remember reading parts of it.
On to the other book I put on the bookshelf at the head of the bed: Eleanor Cameron's The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet. What a book! I just bought it for A, hoping that she'll read it and enjoy it as much as I did when I was 8 and discovered chapter books. This book began my lifelong passion for science fiction. I want A to read it before we go to California, because it's such a wonderful book, and also because Tom knew Eleanor Cameron when he was a child and lived in Monterey, California. His best friend was taken under Eleanor's wing and they often rode their bikes through the woods to her house.
Unfortunately, Eleanor is dead. She'd be almost 100 if she were still alive, but I'd hoped against hope that she was still around. Well, she is still around. Her Mushroom Planet books are high-priced finds on old book sites; I didn't even know that there are five books in the series. Maybe one day I'll win the lottery and be able to own the 3rd, 4th, and 5th books. A girl can hope.