My sister and her marmots were in the library yesterday. Madame 3-yr-old wanted The Jungle Book, so I went to find it in the back. Usually I can track down materials the marmots want. I find them Charlotte's Web or The Magic School Bus and I am a hero and my nieces regale strangers with the story of how their aunt found them the one thing they most wanted in life. Yesterday The Jungle Book was checked out, though. I came out of Circulation, and Madame 3-yr-old was standing there with the happiest, most expectant expression on her sweet little face. I told her that the movie was at someone else's house, and she immediately burst into tears. It's a good thing I'm not a children's librarian. I can't handle that much emotional investment in my services. They should probably include dashing little children's dreams on the job description for children's librarians.
Fortunately, Madame 3-yr-old had The Little Mermaid in her hand, and we engaged her in conversation about what a great movie it is--how there's a singing crab and the poor, unfortunate souls look like my sister's toes (they really do)--and she stopped crying. When I was at my sister's house later that night, Madame 3-yr-old was busy being the sea witch. She does this thing where she narrates her own actions in the 3rd person. It's surreal. Her sister had thwarted her at something, so Madame 3-yr-old turned and flounced off, murmuring, "'Well then,' said the sea witch . . ."
I made Tooey cry last night, too. I was getting ready to leave, so I gave everyone hugs and kisses, and Tooey frantically waved good-bye to me. He came and helped me put my shoes on, and he and I hugged some more and he gave me one of those slimy, face-engulfing kisses that babies do. He waved some more. We hugged some more. It was a very long ritual, so I assumed he understand what would come next. The Leaving. As soon as I closed the door behind myself, though, I heard him wail.
Finally, on a different topic, I'm in a charity spelling bee this weekend. I agreed to participate months ago, but now I can't remember how to spell anything. I may bring shame on the family name. I'm going to go watch Spellbound tonight to remind myself that there are worse things than forgetting how to spell. Like being the kids in Spellbound. Or being their parents.
3 comments:
What the hee-aa-ck is a charity spelling bee? Did you have to get sponsors? Or sponsers? See, I'd already be out.
Doesn't that make you feel so good though that your little nephew loves you so much he cries when you leave?!!
Amy--No, I didn't have to get sponsors. I was recruited to be on a team that the library is funding. It costs to participate and you can pay to do things like poll the audience or use the dictionary to find words.
Annie--It is good to be loved, but he'll stop loving me enough to make him cry. The girls used to cry when I left, too. Fickle!
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