an ode to Old Hickory

Well, I have to say: living here has been a test of my patience. When I say this, take into consideration the fact that I have three children, homeschool Estella, live on half a shoestring budget, etc etc.

The other day:

Please excuse the following material. One my home from Kroger, actual bumper sticker: Aim high boys, them sumb****es are riding camels. Now, I can only guess as to the meaning. Wise men?

Shortly after, I went to the library with the girls. Now, I will just say that I knew ahead of time what I was getting myself into. Every time I walk into the library, I am assaulted with admonitions to force Libiya join the summer reading program, come to storytime, and make sure that I am putting a heavy finger on Eva, who might actually touch a book. We were going in to get (bom bom BOM) a replacement library card for Estella. I had a feeling that this was going to be on the list of the five abominations for the Old Hickory library staff, and I think I may have been correct.

Scenario:

I walk in with Estella and Eva, cheerfully placing my books on the desk and announcing that we need to get a replacement library card for my daughter.

*Sigh* So you lost your card? That's right, I say. He pulls up her record and lets out an exlamatory grunt, much like the one Columbo employs when he's right on the cusp of solving a murderous crime. Well, you see here, he says, the Main library found her card in January 2008, and NO ONE claimed it for a year. He looks at me disapprovingly. They DESTROYED it, said this with all the finality of a gauntlet. No turning back now. I had to pull out all the southern charm I've acquired over the past four or five years. Oh, no, that's not the one - that was the last one we lost, I say. She only just lost one last week, and we need to get a new one. Poor Estella is clutching her little crumpled, hard-earned dollar that she wishes she could just hand to the man so she can get a library book. After a few more grunts and sighs, she gets her card handed over, minus the standard-issue lanyard that is our only hope of not losing it for a year.

But it's not over yet. Can we get a lanyard, too? (pretty please?) Now, he is just plain disgusted, and he shows me this with the biggest grunt yet, spiced up at the end with an 'oh, no, she lost the lanyard, too? By now, I knew he just wanted me to do things properly. Apparently, the protocol for getting a lanyard is picking up a book from the counter and beating the librarian senseless, then leaping over the counter, rustling through the shelves madly until you find the little shoebox of lanyards and take one, waving it triumphantly as you head for the aisles of books.

I didn't let him push me around though. No time for playing library today. Yes, we lost the lanyard. It was attached to the card.

We got a lanyard.

(picture above is Estella's recital at WO Smith Music School's day camp this summer)