My new church has a gift shop and I have per diem. This is not a healthy combination. As if I didn't already own enough books and religious bric-a-brac....
Today, I was continuing the long process of unpacking my books. Being out of space for my ever-growing book collection, I at one point cried out in frustration, "Why do I have so many dang books?" I immediately covered my mouth in shock at my own blasphemy, but it was too late.
A bright flash appeared in the living room and out of it stepped my fairy godmother--the same fairy godmother who helped me escape from the dragons who raised me after they had grown stifling and overprotective! She glared at me over her half-moon spectacles, shook her wand threateningly, and said, "What did I just hear you say about books, young man?"
"Ah, I didn't really mean it, fairy godmother," I protested.
She shook her head in dismay. "Now you're attacking books? It's bad enough you became Catholic...."
"Hey!" I said. "I know Mercedes Lackey and Roberta Gellis say you and the other fairies were big fans of Queen Elizabeth I, but I had to! It was about intellectual honesty!"
She waved that off. "Oh, very well. I'll not turn you into a toad if you won't go insulting books anymore."
"Okay, okay, I won't."
"That's better. Now come here and give your fairy godmother a kiss."
"God-moth-er!" I cried. "I'm too big for that!"
"Get over here, you little squirt!"
Sheesh. Fairy godmothers are helpful at the right time, but after that they can be a real pain. Anyway, I'm still unpacking books. I have no idea where to put them, but I love them. I love them all. Really.