I Wish I Were A Book

"JOHN, for heaven's sake, why can't you just talk to me once in a while?" whined Mary.

"Hun?" John responded.

"Look around you!" she yelled as she pointed around the room. "All these books! Your head is always buried in books! You don't even know I'm alive!"

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"You know sometimes I wish I were a book. Then you'd at least look at me."

"Hmmm," John mumbled in deep thought, "that's not a bad idea. Then I could take you to the library every few days and change you for something more interesting."