“Oh Daddy, was feeding me two Timbits and then taking me to the library really such a good idea?”
Late last week, while I was finishing up my holidays, The Hurricane and I went to the local library, with the intent of reading lots of books and playing … uh, quietly … in the kids area.
Unfortunately, I’m notorious for not checking schedules – the library’s, the YMCA’s, The Boss’s – I just assume they’ll be available to me because I want them to be. So, we showed up half an hour early, at 9:30 a.m., pulling on locked doors in the cold, whipping wind screaming off Lake Ontario.
So, instead of heading home for a few minutes and then re-dressing her in all those layers of winter clothes, I figured we’d find a way to kill half an hour, and our first stop was a nearby Tim Hortons (for any American readers, Timmies is a coffee/donut shop that is a Canadian institution – John Lennon would agree that it’s bigger than Jesus here in the Great White North).
I grabbed a coffee and 10 Timbits (mini sugar-encrusted donuts of various flavours), and headed back for the library parking lot. Once there, The Hurricane moved to her rightful place of ‘shotgun’, and we feasted. I snuck a quick three into me, while she nibbled on one, but still it was only 9:47 a.m., 13 minutes until the librarians opened their gates of learning. So what the hell, I gave her a second Timbit, this one chocolate. We made a pact to save the rest for Mommy.
After jamming to some rock music (Queen was the CD of choice that morning – she headbanged to Bohemian Rhapsody at the exact right moment!) it was 10 and we went into the library all nice and quiet like, and headed for the kids section, which was inhabitated by one person – the angry librarian lady who never, ever smiles.
As we jumped from bookshelf to bookshelf oohing and aahing with each new find, I realized she was speeding up. Like fast. Crazy fast. And then the running started. The flat-out, fast-as-my-little-legs-can-go running. Throw in the necessary “ahah ahah ahah ahah” sounds created when she hits hyper-speed, and a Hurricane of epic proportions had indeed descended on the library’s main floor.
She ran around the giant square desk at the front, which diverts both incoming and outgoing traffic, the wrong way about 10 times, greeting everybody with a rousing ‘Hi!’, as she whizzed by their legs.
Then she found the empty conference room with the open door and tore that place a new one, screeching and staying as far away from me as she could.
Then, when she saw an opening, she’d go barrelling to the far end of the library (back to where we were supposed to be reading quietly!), making as much noise as possible along the way, before taking a breather with a couple of books or two, and making me think the Timbits were working their way out of her system, and she was finally ready to settle down.
Then, like a shot, she’d be gone again, wreaking havoc on everyone and everything along the way.
Luckily the librarian at the front counter is extremely friendly and has known The Hurricane since she was practically brand new. The woman laughed and teased me for being so stupid (although not using those words).
But the evil librarian didn’t even smile. Not once. Not even the edge of her lips moved, which means she’s either dead inside or a statue. But she picked up the phone, so I think statue is out.
Anyway, I eventually rounded her up, somehow got her boots and coat back on and dragged her out of the building, her tongue rolled out of her head, exhausted, but with eyes that still darted every which way, as she planned her next escape.
Suffice to say, Friday’s nap at 11:30 a.m. didn’t happen as planned either. Oops.
So, if you’re ever heading to the library with a 19-month-old and have a few minutes to kill, I’d recommend passing on the Timbits. You might as well just let them drink your double-double too.