I love the Library.

Today, we are going to the library. We are NOT going to story time. I don't do story time. Why, you ask? Because it's pointless. Because I don't like taking my kids to sit awkwardly with a bunch of other kids they don't know and pretend to listen to the story lady with the big eyes and a bevy of hand puppets, when really, all they want to do is run to the back of the room and do the giant shoe puzzle. We never get their on time anyway, because I don't get anywhere on time. So instead of stressing, and feeling like I have to take the kids to story time because for heaven's sake, the TV hasn't been off in four days and we never do anything outside the house... we just don't. And I don't feel guilty about it.

BUT, we do go to the library. Because I love books. And most fortunately, my kids love books too. Depending on your perspective, I am either the best library patron ever, or the worst. I say this because every time we go to the library, I write them a check for oh, $25 or so. I wish it were because I am a mini philanthropist that likes to be generous and support the local library. Really, it's just that I can't ever seem to return books on time. So I pay late fees. Lots and lots of late fees. If I were to go the bookstore and spend 25 bucks instead of paying late fees to the library, I would have my OWN library.

Every time the nice library lady tells me the books are due back in two weeks, showing me three times that there is a sticker on the back of the book with the date on it... see, the pink one. It has a date that is two weeks from today. That's when the books come back. Do you understand? (Yeah, yeah, lady. I get it.) I always think that this time will be different... we'll read the books, I won't lose any, and then we'll come back in two weeks and get more books. But it never happens that way.

It doesn't help that with three reading children, if they each pick out four books, and I pick out a few for myself, it only takes 2 or 3 days to rack up several dollars in fines. If your one week late, well, there you have it. 20 bucks just like that. But alas, the quiet rows of endless books keep calling me back. So, with baby strapped on, preschoolers in tow, and checkbook in hand, I keep going...

I go boldly into the children's book section, allowing my children to pick out whatever they want, then replacing the weird ones that I can't believe someone actually paid to publish with better ones. I carry a precariously perched mile high stack of books on one arm, with the baby perched on the other and venture dangerously in to the adult end of the library so that I can try to find a book for myself. I constantly tell my children to hush and not to zigzag in and out of the isles and in between that nice old man's legs while I search through Mary Higgins Clark, and Jodi Picoult. Then, triumphant, I go and pay my $23.50 fine, and take home our stack of literary treasures to be enjoyed for two weeks. Or three weeks. Or maybe four.

I love the library.