I'm pretty sure Louisa May Alcott never saw this coming

I'm currently reading Little Children, a novel by Tom Perrotta, and I'm absolutely loving it. I did what I considered a very grown-up thing last week as I was grudgingly sitting down each night to read a book that I wasn't enjoying at all. In fact, it was bugging me. I never dread reading. And I'd begun to dread reading the new book by Jane Hamilton, When Madeline was Young. And I've loved her other books. Forced, this one was. Simply forced. So I just stopped reading about a third of the way through. I NEVER stop reading a book once I've begun it. I still feel that childish sense of obligation to finish whatever books I begin. But I did it. And I've no regrets.

But my point is that I'm LOVING Little Children. On the phone this afternoon with S., I told him as much.

Me: Remember that book I'm reading? I'm LOVING it.

He: What's it called again?

Me: Little Children.

He: Ah yes, the prequel to Little Women.