Book 'em, Danno.

It was one of those unfortunate but inevitable glitches in the life of a modern family: tonight, we were double-booked.

On my calendar? An evening meeting with my book club. On Trey's, an all-day meeting with some muckety-muck corporate-type people in Manhattan.

I know: tough call, right? Nearly as tricky as the judgment of Solomon.

In the end, we arm-wrestled for the kitchen pass; Trey won, of course, but I suspect that he cheated somehow.

Anyhoo. I gnashed my teeth for a bit, then remembered the lovely and talented Courtney, who carefully tends a super-secret list of the very best nannies in the metroplex.

One quick call to Courtney, and presto: a younger, blonder, cuter Mary Poppins landed on my doorstep, ready and willing to watch the muppers while I ventured out to discuss a book I'd only partially read, eat, rehash for the kabillionth time the challenges of finding the perfect preschool, eat some more, dish some gossip of both the local and celebrity variety and, yes, eat even more.

After all of that strenuous activity, I returned home to Ms. Poppins' cheerful recap of the evening's activities, a sparkling-clean kitchen and three gorgeous, dozing, happy children. Oh, LIFE.

The only thing left to do, then, was to aimlessly surf the web in my ongoing quest to read every last page. I was making decent progress until I stopped short at this article on msnbc.com.

Read at will, but the gist is thus: the government filed a subpoena demanding that personal information about thousands of amazon.com book buyers be released. You can probably guess what happened next: first-amendment privileges were invoked and successfully used to stand ground against the subpoena, which was, in fact, dropped today.

And so a small victory for the right to privacy is won. But it's not hard to see the writing on the wall, which is why I'd like to preemptively explain some of my more curious recent purchases.

To begin with: I only ordered the Bobby McFerrin CD last week for my grandmother, who wanted to know all of the words to Don't Worry Be Happy. I did not, I repeat: I did not order this item for myself.

And if by some chance that's because I already own said CD, there's only a small likelihood that I actually play its peppy tunes on the rare occasion that I'm feeling blue. Whilst, yes, dancing about the house.

Next item in my order history: a DVD of The Notebook. Again, and I'm not trying to frame a sweet and innocent nonagenarian, but this was also a gift for my grandmother, and is in no way a reflection of my own personal opinions about the delicious hunk of manliness that is James Garner.

Ahem.

Moving quickly if awkwardly along to books: I did buy P.S., I Love You, and in hardback, to boot. And no, it wasn't for my grandmother this time; it was for myself. However, the purchase was made under duress, as it was a book club selection, and I loathed every word of it. Gave it a large thumbs down. Didn't even cry at the weepy parts; nope, not me.

Hmmm: another selection for the book club. Recall, please, that part of the book-club experience is permitting someone to choose a book that, left to your own free will, you might never have given a second glance.

But in my defense, it wasn't until after I'd recommended it to the group that I realized that the book's title, The Best Awful, was in no way a misleading review of the book's content.

Why, no; my book purchases aren't strictly limited to fiction. As you look over my order history, you'll note that a disproportionate number of titles are instructional guides on how to parent: with love and logic, with a nifty zen approach or per the recollections of a beloved childhood hero.

And you want a handle on Montessori? Oh, I've got you covered. Anything you want to know, please, just ask. Just don't ask me, because I've yet to crack a single one of the books open. They're almost entirely decorative.

So there you have it. It's not criminal, my order history; just criminally embarrassing. But if it's all the same to you, unspecified governmental entity, I'd still like to keep it private. Thanks ever so.