Nothing to see here

You’ve booked a week in a self catering holiday cottage.
On arriving, you take your suitcases to the bedrooms.
One room has a double bed. Ok. That’s for the adults.
The other bedroom has two single beds. Intended for kids, right?
Right.
So explain this …

Her: Have you looked on the bookshelf in the kids’ room?
Me:
No?
Her:
There’s a copy of 50 Shades and two sequels.
Me:
Ah. We should probably move those.

I went upstairs and moved the three offending volumes to the top of the dresser in the adults room.


Nothing more was said.
Nothing?
Yeah. Nothing.
No discussion of what led the owner of the cottage to out herself as a fan of literary BDSM. (The spines of the books were well creased and having got through one volume of what has reportedly little merit other than the pervy bits, she then went on to read the other two.) Nor what thought process led to the books being what was undoubtedly intended to be the room used by kids when families rented the cottage. Or perhaps, it was usually occupied by adults, despite there being two single beds in that room.
Maybe I just over analyse these things?

Later, when I went to bed, they had been moved again.

Tucked away with their titles obscured in a dark corner.
Out of sight, out of mind.
No doubt a pragmatic approach when you have a junior bookworm in the family.

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