Yesterday Sammacky and I went to the library looking for intellectual stimulation. I was thrilled to discover a Curious George book we had never read. (I had never even seen “Curious George Goes to the Aquarium” before, let alone read it 87 times like all the others.) And, better yet, Sam picked out a bunch of cool books on fire engines, helicopters, and earthmovers. (If you don’t know what an earthmover is, don’t worry, you probably don’t have a small boy in your house. This information will not come up at a cocktail party unless you hang out with contractors at cocktail parties.)
We were all set to dive into the new books when I noticed that story time was about to start in the room next door! Such serendipity! A free activity! Plus, I ran into some nice women from my neighborhood who were going with their kids, so I was all excited to have some adult conversation. As each child walked in the door, the librarian distributed a cut-out picture. Once that item came up in the story, the kid was supposed to bring the cut-out up front and display it. Sam got a cute little carrot, one of his all-time favorite vegetables. (He ate so pureed ones when he was a baby that he actually turned orange, really orange.) This was going to be so much fun!
The first whisper of trouble was when Sam walked in the door, saw all the people in there, and took off. I coaxed him back in, promising that we didn’t have to stay. If he didn’t like it, we would leave. I settled down in the back row with the fun mothers, but Sam decided to sit on my lap instead of up front with the other kids.
The sweet librarian started reading a cute story about warm, cozy indoor places. As she began to name items around the house, kids started coming up front to put their matching pictures on the display. All of a sudden Sam boomed out, “SAM DON’T LIKE IT!” I decided to pretend I didn’t hear that comment booming from my lap. I knew it was a bad decision when Sam boomed again, “SAM DON’T LIKE IT! GO HOME!” He followed it up with a guttural “WATCH TB!” just for good measure. I whispered to Sam, trying to convince him that he was having a really good time but he just didn’t know it yet.
After one more refrain of “SAM DON’T LIKE IT!” Sam wandered out of the the room. Just as I was going to go find him and corral him back in the room for one more try, I noticed him looking into the back of the room through a small window. Then he started to lick the window out of sheer boredom — or maybe it just tasted so good he couldn’t resist.
And then, don’t you know it, the freakin’ carrot just had to pop up in the story right then. At first I decided to be really quiet and not tell anyone I had possession of the missing carrot. It was my little secret. Then I felt guilty, so I tried to hand the carrot off to one of my fun friend’s well-behaved tot. When the little girl refused to take it, there I was, exposed as the reluctant carrot holder.
I checked over my shoulder — Sam was still engrossed in licking the window pane, so there was no one but me to bring the carrot up front. I was trying to act like I wasn’t completely mortified marching up there like a two-year-old when the librarian yelled, “Let’s hear it for MOM!” Everyone began to cheer. Sam owes me big time for this one.
I refrained from slapping the librarian, stuck that stupid carrot on the display, and hightailed it out of the room. I grabbed my little licker and whispered, “Mommy don’t like it either!” So we checked out our books, went home, and watched some TB.
LibbY