1. When kids get into a strongly worded argument over fictional characters.
2. When kids (or maybe I should say people? Except that it's best with kids) have long, arcane boasts about the secret backstory of a book (musical equivalent: James Taylor wrote this for a girl who died in rehab....) and the ones listening all get quiet and respectful.
3. Long, convoluted, and frequently tortured theories about the future/demise/un-articulated life of fictional characters in books, which must be discussed with utmost earnest interest.
4. Seeing someone who has just finished a book sit there spacing out in a dreamy thoughtful rapture then pick up the same book and start it over from the beginning.
5. When I pull back the covers from someone's bed, feeling all pissy and put upon, and discover five open books under the covers.
7. Going with people to the bookstore or library and having them pick out mysterious books I have never heard of based on even more mysterious recommendations. Bringing the unknown book back to my house is like hosting a fascinating stranger.
8. When a person in my house reads a book and then takes it upon herself to go out and buy or borrow every other book by that author.
9. When I am done with a series of stupid things I am supposed to do, and I'm done running around, and dinner is in the process of becoming, and I look around and realize I am reading a book I really enjoy, and I get to sit down and read some more of it. This is happiness.