There's more than books at your local library.

My Liv had history club at the library today. While we waited for her, I took my littles over to the children's section to play Legos and puzzles. A cute little towhead, I'll call him Little Johnny, showed up moments later, chuck full-o-chicken pox. And I mean a BAD outbreak (bandaids in multiple places). He was all over the Lego blocks and I was all over my kids.

Me: "Reece, C, let's go. Momma's gonna read you a little story over there."
Reece: "Where?"
Me:(with restrained urgency) "Oh, over there."
Reece: (still playing) "Where, momma?"
Me: (realizing Johnny's mom was aware of my growing discomfort) "Over there, now C'MON!!!"
And we headed over "there",...to the other side of the library. Beyond the adult section. And through the double doors just for good measure.

Now you can tell me scabbed Chicken Pox aren't contagious 'till you're three shades of sky blue pink, but I was an R.N. and the fact is, a child can be contagious until one week after the last new spot has scabbed over. And how in thee world am I supposed to know when Johnny did his best scabbing? I mean really. Of course, my children are vaccinated. And yes, I immediately hauled them away like two snitches in the witness protection program. But Johnny's mom,...what was this woman thinking?
"C'mon, Johnny. We're going to take you in all your pockiness and plant you front and center in the middle of the children's section at our local library." I tell you, it's the most brief lego encounter my children have ever had.

And naturally we couldn't get out of there without some kind of mishap. We were nearly home free too, but then it happened. Right up front at the double doors. Edna Mae, the 80 something volunteer, dropped an 8 foot folding table right on her foot. OUCH! I tried to go over to her but Edna Mae was mad. She turned her back on me right quick, and when the equally 80 something Ethel Louise tried to show concern for Edna's throbbing foot, she fired, "That hurt. Thaaaat hurt bad. I dropped that huge table on my foot. That's it. I just need to stop right now and go home."

God bless Edna Mae. I have no idea why she felt she had the strumpf to lift an 8 foot folding table all by her lonesome, but it backfired (somewhat literally) and she was none too willing to accept any comfort for her toe woe.

Oh, and one more library guffaw. Olivia stepped outside yesterday with our librarian (different library than Pox Row) to free some butterflies that had emerged from their chrysalis (chrysalises? chrysalai? Aw, where's that grammar check feature when I need it?) One of the butterflies landed on her, which thrilled Olivia to no end. She filled me in on the specifics of her adventure, noting, "They were New York butterflies, Mom." Now, how she knew this, I wasn't sure. Looked like your run of the mill Indiana butterflies to me. But hey, I'm not all bug wise. Then it hit me. My little Bunker struck again.
New York butterflies.
Monarch butterflies.
It's all good.

Toni