Let’s Try Children’s Hour at the Library

Let’s Try Children’s Hour at the Library

So, we’re in the final trimester of the school year. The snow has melted, routines are settling. I need to come up with more things to do with Reggie while Lyd’s off at school. How about Children’s Hour at the Library? We get out of the house, there are book readings, then we can borrow a couple of books.
Lydia Loved Children’s Hour back in the day, so much so that she cried a little when she realized she wouldn’t be doing it anymore now that she attends school. Why wouldn’t Reggie take to it as well?
I should have known better. Lyd is eager to please and can (at times) fall right back in line with nothing more than a nasty look from me. Regina sees the same look and thinks “challenge accepted”. Regina doesn’t like rules. She doesn’t like restrictions. She doesn’t like being in a situation where someone else calls the shots—How about I take her to a place with rules? Some of those rules center around silence! Sure! I’m feeling pretty stupid today, let’s do it!
We arrived a little early. Kids and parents were still filing in, so we’re all just sort of hanging out and waiting. Reggie took one of the books off the Librarian’s Table, sat in her chair and proceeded to pretend to read the book to the kids. Cute (I suppose). When it took three requests to get her off the chair, I began to realize this was going to be a long hour. Lil’ Miss Reggie had a case of the dickens today.
Here is a rare glimpse into the imagined conversations Regina and I have.
Our dialogue is both spoken and unspoken. Reggie’s dialogue has been translated by me mostly from dirty looks, sour looks, sad looks, defiant looks, and smiles that look very cute to everyone who is not her parent.
“Regina…for the Love of Peter Paul and Mary, sit the (bleep) down!”
“Why should I? This is Children’s Hour. I’m a child, hence the hour belongs to me. You have no power here old man. But to shut you up for a minute, I’ll sit down…here. No wait! Perhaps here? Nah! How…about…”
“REGINA!”
“Fine fine fine. I’ll sit here”
The librarian, Miss Marian read on.
“I changed my mind, I want to sit on your lap.” She stood up and made her way over to me.
“You know, Miss Marian is reading a pretty neat looking book, are you finding it interesting?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”
“Would you like to sit back down on the mat so that you can get a better look at the pictures?”
“No, not really.”
“. . .”
“Okay, FINE I’ll get back down. But not on that stupid mat. I’m going to sit outside the mat, out on the floor and I’ll sit on the opposite side of the room from you. Because you’re an oppressive jerk.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“You won’t be fine with it when you see where I choose to sit.” Hmm, he doesn’t seem all that bothered. He doesn’t even seem to care. He’s barely paying attention to me. He’s listening to that tramp librarian reading the book about dragons! Does Mommy know about this? He’s paying attention to a lady who is not Mommy! I’m telling. What gives? He’s still not paying attention to me. Oh wait, he just smiled at me and winked. He thinks that will keep me happy? Not at all. I’m feeling miserable. How can he cheat on me and Mommy like this???
Meanwhile, in my head:
Okay, she seems to be settled in finally. Just two more books to go, then we can borrow a couple of books and get back Home. Oh crap, her bottom lip is starting to stick out. What now? Great. Now she’s crying, not her serious cry, it’s her dramatic cry. I’m going to get looks shot at me in a minute. For the Love of…she’s asking for a consoling hug from the Mom next to her. For real?
“Reggie, come over here.”
“Daddy! Don’t go running off with that Librarian.”
“What???”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
“Reggie, you need to be down there with the other kids.”
“I know I know. I’m going. But I won’t sit. I want a good view. I’m going to stand front and center.”
Miss Marian paused in her reading, “Regina, could you please sit down?”
“Uhm, sure. I guess.” Reg sat for five seconds. “Daddy!”, she ran back to me. “Did you hear that? She told me what to do. She’s not Mommy, she’s not you or Grandma or Grandpa, or…who the hell is she anyway? That Home wrecker now thinks she can boss me around??? This is an outrage. This…this calls for a tantrum. That’s what this calls for.”
That was when she began screaming, time for a grab-and-run (wear the sheepish expression). After a two minute discussion about better behavior, following rules, and the threat of a time-out–“I’ll stay silent Daddy, but only if you hold me.”
“Well…I am going to put you down, but way back here, not on the mat. Okay.”
She started crying again, “I want a snack!!!”
“I didn’t pack any snacks!”
“I know you didn’t pack any snacks! That makes it even worse!”
“If you knew, then…why…? Never mind. Just, never mind.
Reading time wrapped up. Time to go pick out some books!
“Ah, I feel better Daddy. I Love spending time with you.”
(rubbing my temples) “You too. You too.”
“Anyway, I’ll take this book here.” she pulled it off the shelf and sat down to read it.
“Sure, that one looks great!”
Getting back up, “If that’s the case, I’ll take this one and this one, and this one and this one…”
“Are you trying to just empty the shelf?”
“That is a ridiculous accusation! I’m appalled you would even think of something like that, and then, to accuse me?”
“Then name the last three books you just picked.”
“Uhm, uh…I’m just trying to make sure that Librarian is occupied with her profession—and NOTHING else. That’s all.”
“Let’s go Home Hun.”
“I pooped.”

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