My sisters (teenagers) came up this weekend and we ran around Cleveland, visting the art museum and bookstores. Three half-prices and two Border's outlets, to be exact.
My sisters bought 39 books between them. Most were Christmas presents for their friends and family, but . . . still. I was a little shocked when I looked around near epic poetry and started picking Spenser, Ovid, and other people out a basket on the floor and full of what looked like twentysomething books waiting to be shelved. My sister interrupted me and explained that they were actually hers.