To All the Books I’ll Never Read,
You’ve never looked so dusty … sitting there in row upon row upon rows of shelves that easily should have collapsed under the weight of many a vampire trilogy, Nicholas Sparks knockoff or self-help book that, let’s face it, was never going to help that much anyway.
There’s no cure for what ails me except maybe an Audible subscription and the Wilton Library‘s donation bin. And do you think maybe they’d want four copies of The Sound and the Fury, which I have a hunch isn’t about me yelling at my kids to turn it down for the four millionth time?
You want to know the real reason I’ll never read How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Manipulate You Into Feeling Sorry for Them and Somehow Persuade You to Clean Up Their Room, Couchside Deliver Their Dinner and Buy Them Those Overpriced Athleta Leggings They’ve Been Begging For Since Last September?
Um, because it’s impossible to get a stretch of anything remotely quiet for more than three minutes in this house.
But please, don’t think you’re forgotten, You Are a Badass: How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness and Living an Awesome Life. Right now I’m just doubting we have enough toilet paper in the house and feeling not-so-awesome about the prospect of schlepping out to the store with a 2-year-old who refuses to wear pants and thinks greatness is attempting to flush his father’s cell phone charger down the toilet. Too bad I can’t seem to locate any homeowners manuals on how to extract electrical cords from antiquated plumbing, and before anyone reading this thinks to call and rat me out to my husband, I know where your toilets live.
I love reading, really I do, so believe me when I tell you this isn’t personal, Fifty Shades of Couldn’t Get Through the First Book, nevermind the following five. I’m just a little busy practicing 60 shades of celibacy while a toddler sleeps in our marital bed — which I’m resigned to, quite frankly, because I’m pretty sure, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stay awake long enough to crack the spine on It’s Never Too Late to Sleep Train.
It is, btw … way too late. I seriously want my Washington(s) back on that one and a little extra for emotional distress. There’s nothing quite like waking up with a foot in your face or a sippy cup in your sciatica or a book you had every intention of reading serving as some sort of makeshift pillow. Think firm, really firm. This one’s actually from the book of the month club, something I cosigned with my mom during our pandemic days. It’s been roughly two years and I’ve read exactly none of the lovely bestsellers promising to sweep me away to sultry sagas, exotic escapades and tawdry tales.
I guess it’s a good thing my mother sleeps even less than I do, covering a lot of literary ground between the hours of 11 p.m. and 2 a.m. and 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. If anyone’s in need of a not so brief synopsis on contemporary crime and suspense novels predominantly portraying jilted lovers, maids with more and dogs who know too much, look no further, she’s your gal.
But if you’re looking for a perfect list of page turning classics rather than a Dear John letter to the books on my shelf look further, much further than …
Lesley Kirschner’s List of Books I (Might Have) Read but Possibly Just Watched the Movie Version, Skimmed Cliff Notes On or Slept on Top Of
(Proceed with Caution)
- The Sun Also Rises: Pretty girl gets with impotent guy, questionably hot guy and possibly other guy, drinks a shit ton of hard liquor and maybe gets eaten by a bull
Read if you like the sun, pedestrian language and running from/to/with livestock
- Lord of the Flies: My house between the hours of 6 a.m. and 11 p.m.
Read if being trapped on a deserted island with lots of bugs is your idea of a good time
- The Catcher in the Rye: A day in the life of a guy you don’t want dating your daughters. He might play baseball?
Read if you like narcissists and fields of cover crops
- The Grapes of Wrath: Produce turns on mankind, (think mutant mangos, savage strawberries, killer kiwi).
Read if you like dust bowls, locusts and villainous vine fruits
- Call of the Wild: The true story of our garbage cans when the discovery of dirty diapers and three week old pizza keeps countless critters cackling until the wee hours of the morning
Read if you like dumpster diving and coming up with novel ways to bungee cord your garbage closed
- Little Women: So tiny they could fit in your pocket but more fun to hide in your cupboard, medicine cabinet, even your underwear drawer. Is it safe to shower? You tell me.
Read if you like sleeping with one eye open or don’t own underwear
- Of Mice and Men: My husband trying to trap another rogue rodent in my good Tupperware while my older daughter screams like a wolverine just crawled through the crack in her baseboard
Read if you like pest control and sterilizing food storage
Disclaimer: Lesley Kirschner owns underwear but currently can’t find them.
Columnist Lesley Kirschner grew up quiet, in the woods, and devoid of siblings so her hobbies quickly became reading, writing, and talking to inanimate objects. She also spent a considerable amount of time doing voice-overs for her dolls and watching too much daytime television–channel 3, sometimes channel 8, if the weather was good and the antenna wasn’t acting up. She was in attendance at school, graduated from a very much not notable college not worth mentioning, and was transplanted to Wilton with her husband, Ambler Farm‘s Farmer Jonathan and their (baby makes) three children almost a decade ago. Although she never quite found her calling in life, other than perhaps the doll voice-overs, which in hindsight were eerily convincing, she’s happy to try her hand at writing and is thankful for the support and community she found on Facebook’s Buy Nothing Wilton. Lesley realizes while this is all very exciting, she’s not winning a Pulitzer so she’ll wrap it up and be quiet. She’s had a lot of practice.