Damn that Jamie Lee Curtis.

July 24, 2007 – 7:25 am |

I’m standing in the rubble, torn to pieces, at the end of my journey. My heart has filled and emptied. I’ve laughed and cried. The secrets of a decade long quest lay before me, about to be revealed. It’s as though I have apparated here, with Harry, to view the contents of the pensieve. With every word I learn more, every word is rewarding me for my long journey, for my commitment to the children of Hogwarts. I see Harry… Mom. I stay focused, desperate …. Mom …gasp… this is it. The End. I must know. Mooom. Something is pulling me now and I can’t be budged. I’ve w… MOOOOOOOMMMM

I crash back to reality, like a Rowling wizard sucked through the floo system. I stick the bookmark in at page 655 and slam the book shut. “What?” I snap. Then, realizing I have snapped, ask, more softly, though no less annoyed, “Hey Sweetie, what do you need? Where is dad?”

“He’s in the shower. He told us not to bug you. What’s Harry doing now?” asks 5.
“He’s still on his quest, looking for stuff.”
“What’s he looking for?”
Really? Seriously? Now? I think, at page 655?

I choose my words carefully. “Well, I don’t really want to tell you, in case you want to read it yourself someday. I don’t want to spoil it for you.”
“I don’t mind.”

This could be tricky. In a moment of inspiration, a plan hits me. “Hey, I have a quest for you… You know my white sandals – the ones with the bow on them?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“If you can find those,” I dangle it out there, knowing exactly where they are, “I’ll give you a dollar.”
He speeds off toward the closet, “Ok.”

I open the boo..

“Hey mom?” 4 is standing before me now, piercing right through me with her dark eyes.
“Yes?” I sigh. “What do you need?”
“I found my favorite book,” she says proudly, holding it up. “Will you read it to me?”

I stare at her. But, Harry… and Snape…

Remembering that I have justified my weekend of complete neglect by picturing those Playhouse Disney commercials where Jamie Lee Curtis implores, “let your kids see you read,” I realize that 4, ever wise 4, has discovered the path to my submission.

We read. “Thanks, mom,” she offers and runs off to race 5 in the quest for the sandals.

I grab the book back into my lap like an addict, my heart racing as I op..

“You’re still not dressed?” Hubs appears on the stairs, looking at his watch. “The Babysitter will be here in 20 minutes,” he starts. Then, seeing my face, he changes his tone. “Get in the shower,” he insists, “and you can finish it in the car.”

By the time I shower my desperation has subsided, and my shoes, never truly lost, have been found. I pay the dollar and go to the party, leaving Harry and friends. The book sits, marked at page 655, waiting.

Several hours later, I return. Immediately, I make my excuses and lock myself away. When I emerge, the journey is over. The book is done. I’m content with the ending, but sad. Now it’s just another set of fantasy books available for reading at will with no anticipation. I’m contemplating this sad thought when 5 sees me.

“What happened to Harry?” he asks urgently. “How’d it turn out?”

I smile. “You’ll see,” I say. “Someday, when you’re old enough, you’ll see.”