The cosmetic side of chess…
My wife thinks it odd that I spend time pouring over chess theory. She accepts the fact that I play chess, she just finds it amusing that I study chess. I order books in the mail and on occasion she will sarcastically comment on the use of such literature, going so far as to sardonically answer a hypothetical question of mine concerning how much I would have to pay to get her to read one. Let’s just say it was slightly short of one mortgage payment. Her sentiments were vocalized quite clearly, she would never find any use for these books.
A few days ago I received a long sought after book in the mail on a particular chess opening. I had not even cracked it open, waiting for that moment when I could escape into the quiet hours to absorb what was written inside. After putting my son to sleep I finally found that moment on a lazy afternoon, the book however was nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere, my study, the car, various bedrooms, everywhere a book might be resting. Finally I walked into the bathroom and spotted this.
Apparently my wife does have use for my books on chess, mainly to serve as a functional platform for her array of cosmetics.