Random Car Chat
G: So I could have a job.
Me: Wow! What kind of job?
G: I want to work at a lib-a-rar-y.
Me: What would you do there?
G: Make books and stuff like that.
Me: Like write books or put them together?
G: Pause… Both. Write books AND make them.
Thought balloon over my grinning face: Yippee!
Our trips to the library all these years are working! And I thought all he was interested in there was the fun special programs, puzzles, puppets, and computer games. I often have to distract him over to the book section or drag him away from the computers to get books. He loves books, but computers just for kids are alluring. And hey, you get to wear the cool headphones.
G ran ahead while I got N and M situated in a teen study skills class last night. He always zooms to the computers, looks around to see what others are playing, then checks out the interesting looking sites himself. Hmmm…nope, not there. I felt that old instinctual panic zing through my body, quickening my step. I found him digging intently through shelves of picture books. He brought each carefully selected gem to a growing pile on the table. When finished, he excitedly showed me each book. Then he strode off purposefully, picked out a puzzle and sat down to play. He picked out dvds when he noticed me looking.
Self-check out + G: So. On. It. Nifty and fun, but I miss the casual chatting with desk clerks. I’m afraid when he grows up, librarians may be a distant memory. A casualty of electronic media, instant/gotta have it now/right here/day or night/NOW. Disposable.
There’s a good one for your wishing well, G.