Monday Confessional

If given the right opportunity, I can squander time like nobodies business. 

Last Thursday I went grocery shopping with all three of my kids. The goal (set only because I like to set goals, not because I had anything else planned that day) was to leave by 9:00 am and so I set my alarm for 8:00 am.

(Yes, I need an alarm to wake up that late in the morning. We have turned into the hugest sleeping-in family you've ever met this summer and IT'S AWESOME.)

Anyway, woke up at 8:00 am, snoozed till 8:15 am, showered, got ready and dressed by 9:15 am... hey - not too shabby!, yet somehow didn't leave the house until 1:10 pm IN THE AFTERNOON. 

Don't ask how that happened... I couldn't tell you at the time, and certainly won't be able to now, a whole 4 days later. All I know is that somewhere in there was budgeting, laundry, and reorganizing Kendall's closet. 

But back to our departure. We made a quick somewhat lengthy stop at my sister's office, stopped for gas, then a Dutch Bros. coffee for my sanity, and by then we were up in town and it was 2:15 pm. At which point I was all, "Look at the time, guys! Daddy's off work already, shall we call and and see if he wants to meet up and take you kids back home with him so you don't have to grocery shop with me?" (I only asked because I knew they would say yes, it wasn't really an option.)

The call was made, Russ was happy to oblige because he's WONDERFUL, and all of a sudden I was switching car seats in a 76 station parking lot and making sure to kiss my husband goodbye in case anybody thought we were one of those divorced couples that meets in public places to swap kids. 

Believe it or not, that's not even part of my confession - I'm just really weird. 

No, my confession is that after a nice leisurely stroll through Nordstrom Rack and Target, I made my way through Costco and was all set to check out with a cart full of groceries when I glanced over at the book table on my way past and saw a book that caught my attention. 

The girl who was kidnapped at age 11 and held captive for 18 years.

I stopped. 

I picked it up and read the back.

I opened it up and read the inside jacket. 

Then the preface. 

Then the introduction.

AND THEN THE ENTIRE BOOK. 

Yep, that's right. In Costco, standing in front of my loaded shopping cart, with tears streaming down my cheeks in many parts. It was just that mesmerizing. And awful and horrifying, and insightful and inspiring and full of hope. In a nutshell.

Now, I have never done this before and when I finished, and realized what I'd done, and how much time had gone by (an hour and a half!), I glanced around very sheepishly, feeling quite guilty. And this feeling was made much worse when I hurried to check out and didn't even buy the book! (I'd already maxed out my shopping budget!)

Am I a terrible person?

Don't answer that.

I am a black hole of time, people.

(Post script: I'd like to add that I'm not necessarily recommending the above book... the early stages are quite descriptive and detailed in ways I did not think necessary - along with the language used during those scenes, so some of it I skipped over. But the overall story is still very amazing.)