storytime

This Wednesday was the start of preschool storytime at our public library. So, I invited a friend to meet us there with her 2 little girls and I loaded up Hannah and Ethan to go and listen to some stories. I thought it would be great. I thought I had found an outing that could become the type of ritual that Hannah and Ethan would one day look back on and say, "Oh I remember when Mom used to take us to the library for storytime when we were little. I loved it..." Well, let me just tell you, not only was I wrong but the whole thing was a real beating.

First of all, preschool storytime lasted for 45 minutes. I don't know many 3 year olds who can sit still for 45 minutes but they don't have the same last name as me...Then, the very dry, very out-of-touch librarian read book after book. All the while, I attempted to entertain Ethan with every toy and trinket in my purse and Hannah fought him for space on my lap rather than sitting on the rug with the rest of the kids. After half an hour, I had to give up and take them out.

Later that night, still clinging to the idea that I might be right about having found a beloved ritual, I asked Hannah if she had liked storytime at the library. "No. I didn't like it. I just like the one where we sit in my bed and you scratch my back."

"Yeah, I like that one too," I said smiling and realizing that the beloved ritual had been here all along.