So if this motherhood gig falls through…

I just watched Three Days of the Condor, a 1970s spy movie. If you liked Bourne Identity, you’ll love it. Anyway, Robert Redford plays a bookish researcher for the CIA (uh-huh, Robert Redford nerdy. That’s why they call it acting). His colleagues are murdered and he must flee the assassins and uncover the conspiracy (as in every other spy movie). But my favorite part is when his superiors, who don’t know whether to trust him or not, have a meeting to discuss him.

Spy supervisor #1: Where did he learn evasive moves?
Spy supervisor #2: He reads.
Spy supervisor #1: What the hell does that mean?
Spy supervisor #2: It means, sir, that he reads everything.

Little did I know that I was qualifying myself for a second career. Stay-at-home-mom-book-junkie-spy. That’s me — double-o-size-16, licensed to put bad guys in time-out and correct their grammar. Watch out! I think that’s a pocket Shakespeare strapped to her thigh.

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