The Library

I went to the library yesterday. Going to the library is one of my favorite things in the world to do. I took Rylan with me (of course) and as we first entered the maze of shelves I had such warm, motherly satisfaction.

Look at my boy, I thought.

He was happily walking down the aisle, holding a stuffed monkey he refused to leave in the car, peering at the various books and looking back every few seconds to make sure I was there.

I wanted my camera. Surely, this is the stuff good motherhood is made of. I needed a digital witness.

By the end of our visit, I was wishing I didn't have a library full of personal witnesses.

Somehow, in the half hour we were there, he managed to:

get the monkey lost,

get himself lost,

entertain the patronage with 20 minutes of me trying to drag his unwilling body to the checkout with one arm while I juggled 6 books and the redeemed monkey in the other,

and

push the elevator alarm button.

Who decided the alarm button should be below all the other buttons, anyway?

Once we got out the door, he managed to run into the middle of the parking lot while I was trying to put the books down so I could buckle him up. Then, as I put him in the car I accidently bumped his head on the door frame.
He looked at me, shook his finger, and said, "No. Uh uh. Soft."

I can laugh while I write this for two reasons and two reasons alone.

One: I have six really fun books to read
and
Two: Thank heavens God is my one true witness, because I try.