Silence

I've been living in a world of silence for the past two days.

It's been hard to bear, but I think I'm starting to see the light now.

The cause of these silent days is that Mrs Wife left me for another man.

Not just any man, but a younger man, practically a boy, but one who is apparently far more exciting than I could ever be.

Despite the fact that she is 27, Mrs Wife spent the hours between 6.30pm on Saturday and 10.30pm on Sunday reading Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows.

And now she's finished it. She's refusing to tell me whether the boy wizard dies. I don't really care, I was only making conversation. And trying to find out so that I can spoil the ending for small children.

But as Mrs Wife can't read when there's music on in the background, I spent most of Sunday watching The Open from Carnoustie with the sound off.

Nonetheless, it is a tad disconcerting when an otherwise rational WOMAN spends two days reading a kids' book.

I've only read the first Harry Potter book, and I only read it because I'd run out of more worthwhile literature whilst touring southern Europe in 2001. It was enjoyable enough I suppose, but it didn't strike me that I just HAD to devour the sequels immediately.

As kids' books go, I think that the Harry Potter series pales in comparison to the works of Roald Dahl. In fact, in some instances, I think that JK Rowling borrowed heavily from Dahl's work, especially the surreal works of Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, The BFG and Matilda. She also obviously drew inspiration from Tolkien and from Tom Brown's School Days.

I'll probably get around to reading the books when I have kids myself, but not before. There are just far too many great books written for adults that I haven't gotten round to yet.