So anyway, I find I have less and less time to write. Which is sad, really - as I should always make time for writing. But, hey. What can I say? Contrary to popular belief, I ain't perfect.
Today we're going to a library with some other Moms to check out the play area and to browse the books. Libraries (though I haven't been to one in ages) seem so old-fashioned and antiquated... and yet, they have this kind of awesome quality to them.
When I was a little girl, I absolutely loved going to the library. I loved browsing through rows and rows of books. I loved the crinkly sound that happened when I opened up a book with that protective plastic covering on it. I thought that getting a new book to read was on par with eating tons of candy or having a sleepover.
I read Ramona Quimby, Age 8 and The Berenstein Bears. I devoured Clifford books and The Littles series. I read every single Babysitter's Club book. I read and reread Are you there God? It's me, Margaret over and over again. I loved Roald Dahl books, especially Witches, The BFG and Matilda.
Reading, for me, was intensely exciting. So, as nerdy as it may sound, libraries had this kind of magical quality to me.
I have no idea if Anna will feel the same way. Will she be like me? Or will she be more like her Daddy (who reads, but would probably laugh at me if he knew I thought of it as magical)? I read to her every night to inspire that love at an early age. In the end, if it's not her thing, that's okay with me.
But, man, what a fantastic world she'll be missing.