Down-time

To get out of the house yesterday, Adam and I decided to go to our place of worship--Borders. It's getting easier to take the kids there: we just take them up to the children's books and let them go mad. Keira's face was a treat. So one adult goes off while the other babysits, and then vice versa. The shop didn't let us get away without buying something (we are so weak), but I admit I snuck an extra something onto our pile, which Adam did not see until I meekly scrawled into bed last night with my new treasure. Adam: "What's that?" Karen: "The latest imported edition of Writers Digest" Adam: (sneaking a peak at the imported price tag): "WHAT, WHAT, WHAT?!" Karen: "Hey, its quality! It's thick. I only ever get to buy one of these a year. It's my mother's day treat." That seemed to placate him. Honestly though, I could've walked out with a bundle of magazines. That's what I love about Borders. You get a bit sick of seeing the regular two-a-penny rags at the supermarket. I want quality black and white spreads and someone other than Paris Hilton looking back at me off a cover. What's your magazine treat?