My husband told me tonight that he has never read Where the Wild Things Are. I told him he needs to march back to his elementary school and demand a refund. It saddens me that the books I hold dearest in my heart are things he knows nothing about. What's worse...he called it queer. Should I punch him in the face now or later?

Obviously I'm not really going to punch him in the face. Especially since he just told me he did read The Monster At The End Of This Book, which is one of my favorites. He redeemed himself.

Apparently my husband doesn't have much of an imagination...or much use for it. Forty is so unbecoming to him.

I wonder if he will get over that if we have kids. Maybe. But I finally understand why he says things like "Stop reading so many books and watch some television." He's obviously not a reader.