Letter to the People at the Library
A letter to everyone at my local library that I should have written 3 years ago. Everything in this letter has actually happened, but not all in the same trip.
Dear Library People,
I’m sorry. Let’s get that out in the open right now. You’re completely right – what was I thinking bringing four children under the age of nine to the library by myself, or at all for that matter?
I should have known the second we entered the library, and all the kids insisted on getting a drink. I figured getting a drink was innocent enough. I was wrong. I know it looked like my baby’s eyes were going to pop out of his head while I held him under one arm and hoisted the 3-year-old to the water fountain with the other, but he was completely safe the entire time.
Please reassure the woman at the entrance that I did manage to catch my 6-year-old before she got to the parking lot. I tried to explain that I was holding kids at the water fountain but she may have considered calling Child Protective Services anyway.
I did get us to the children’s section as quickly as possible but you might want to reconsider the display of knickknacks inside the entrance of the library. The death grip I kept on chubby fingers was the only thing between your glass clowns and sudden, smashing death. The screams of horrible pain that emanated from the owner of the chubby fingers were a direct result of my valor in protecting your figurines.
There are some shelves in the sewing section that you might want to disinfect. One of my children thought it would be a good idea to lick them. It made me throw up a little in my mouth, but I’m sure a little spit polish didn’t hurt anything. No books were licked so…that’s something.
I’m sorry. Have I mentioned that yet?
Thank you to the librarian at the counter who did not give me a dirty look or scold me when I brought her the book with the huge tear on the front page. I have explained to my children that books are delicate, but maybe I need to be a little more specific on what ‘delicate’ means.
The wandering child that kept yelling, “Mom!” was indeed mine. I was busy picking up the puzzle pieces that my other child had thrown on the floor. I hate to admit it, but I didn’t realize she had wandered off. There was a very unhappy older gentleman reading in a chair that mumbled something like, “control your children” under his breath. He might not be back.
I probably shouldn’t have sneaked over to look at the books about painting but please understand that sometimes they are my only escape from my beautiful children. While I was looking at them, my little boy decided to see if he could walk out of the library with the computer headphones on, or at least that’s what I think he was doing before he clotheslined himself and started screaming.
I’m sorry about the loud, disturbing body noises. Babies can’t control their body functions. I don’t think 3, 6, or 9 year-olds can control their reactions to such noises much better. I ran to the restroom to take care of the mess as soon as I could gather everyone together, which was still plenty of time for the smell to waft through half the library. Sorry.
I also think you might need more paper towels.
Finally, while I was checking out our books, my children wreaked havoc. Between the two that were playing tag around the checkout station and my crying baby, I was distracted enough that the fourth one might have been able to sneak away and pull all the name slips out of the on-hold books. Oops.
Mom Trying to Get Out of the House
P.S. – I read somewhere that taking children to the library builds their love of reading and books. Sooooo, I’ll be back next week.