Stealing from the Library

"Isn't that stack a little precarious?"

"Mmm?  What stack?"  I look up from the summer sweater I'm crocheting.  My husband points to the stack of books on the shelf, the bottom book jutting out over the front of the cabinet by at least three inches.  "Oh, probably."

"Are those all library books?"

"Mmm.  Yeah. And a DVD and audiobook."

"You have all those out of the library right now?"

"No.  I have one more on the nightstand."  I offer him a sweet smile.  "And you have at least four or five more out yourself, you know."

"Oh, yeah.  I do."

"Three are cookbooks, I just haven't had time to type the recipes into the computer yet."  I eye the stack.  "It does sometimes feel like stealing to have so many good books at home though..."

"It's not safe to have those books stacked like that.  Not with that around."  He points at the sprawled cat on the floor, who has been running around with a straw in his mouth like a crazed maniac for the last half an hour, and has just now become exhausted.

"I actually had to move the books over there because earlier today he sent them all over the floor.  It was like a cartoon, he was running on top of them and they kept shooting out behind him."

"And this is the safer alternative???"

I had no answer for that.