This morning Preschooler D and I managed to leave the house and head to the library for the first day of story time. For two years I was the Story Time Lady at our local library. I never started on time. People were always wandering in late. But the new Story Time Lady runs a tighter ship than I did. That's fine. If you say you start at 10:30, you should start at 10:30.
Well, D and I did not get out of the house as soon as we should have and -- what?! Did I just move to Minnesota?! -- I forgot to warm up the car. The front windshield was frosted over. I thought about rolling down the window and driving to the library with my head out the side window, but I have to drive through downtown and you never know when a little old lady is going to jaywalk from her coffee club to the bank. So I had to scrape. We were a little late. I didn't think we were that late, but we missed the actual story reading portion of story time.
D colored the picture and thought about this. It was story time. He'd come to hear stories. From over at my table in the back I heard him cry, "I'll find you a book to read!" Up he popped, went over and found a Valentine book and the stunned, sweet little Story Time Lady said, "Okay, sure D."
And she did.
I would have just sat there in silence, chewing on my cookie, wondering why my mother couldn't move us the five blocks from our house to the library on time.
Not D. Oh, boy! Not D.