The First Book

On March 11, 2013, I received a call telling me that my book is on it's way. I giggled as I couldn't wait to see what it looked like. I had seen many versions of it on the computer and even seen what it looked like on Amazon, but that didn't mean nearly as much as holding it.
I waited patiently throughout the day at work and wished I could just run home to check. When my shift ended and the kiddos were packed in the car I drove home, tapping the steering wheel all the way. I couldn't get home fast enough, though home was literally three minutes away. I pulled into the driveway and sent my son to check the mail and glanced toward the porch. There sat a package nestled in between the screen door and the door itself. I giggled.
My son told me he didn't see the book in the mail and I pointed to the front door. He ran and grabbed it before I got a chance. When he handed it to me, he stood impatiently waiting for me to open it up. Though I tried to just tear it open, the packaging was tough and I tried not to break any nails. Finally it opened and I slid it out and into my hands. As I giggled, tears welled up in my eyes. "I did it," I said softly.
My son hugged me and said, "Why are you sad, mama?"

I laughed. "No, baby. Everything's fabulous! This is mommy's first book."
"Wow!" He said. "Can I read it to you?"
"Um, not this one baby." Flustered I didn't have a real good response except that this book is intended for adults.