Courting the Librarian
Something wonderful has happened.
After over a year of cautionary approaches, planning visits strategically at the hour of the day in which El is the most charming, well-fed and freshly pottied, attending every single free class offered, we have made and established a genuine rapport with our public library’s children’s librarian.
Librarians are a fickle breed- there are only two kinds of children’s librarians. The ones who love books and children, and the ones who hate both. I’ve imagined they’ve all been jilted at the alter and have subjected themselves to a lifetime of the torturous prospect of herding other’s snot nosed, book destroying offspring as some kind of guilty self-punishment. It’s not your fault, ladies. Not your fault. Please for the sake of everyone else,know that we all understand that this was not the quiet life you had envisioned and find a position where communicating with people is unnecessary. Like, teaching.
The other kind, however, the warm, friendly, book-fairy kind- they are hard to get close to. Everyone wants a piece. You have to be steadfast in your pursuit. Gently title-drop books you know they love. Dressing your child as beloved children’s character’s often helps. Coach them in saying things like, “Would Anne of Green Gables curtsy this way, Mama?” and, “Is this science fiction or fantasy?” Always prep your children to ask the librarian directly. She cannot resist a three year old’s request for books with elephants eating ice cream. Who could?
Ours couldn’t. She finally cracked on a sunless, rainy day when the library was particularly empty. She was alone, sitting at her desk when Ellie spotted her, ran politely over to her (as I watched in awe of her unusual restraint) and said, “Hi my favorite book teacher!” Bam. Unprompted. Uncoached. This kid knew the deal. She spent the rest of the better part of an hour leading Ellie around the aisles, reading “Bread and Jam for Francis” over and over again, as it was her children’s favorite while I browsed the new cookbooks, checked out Molly Wizenberg’s Delancey, Alicia Silverstone’s “Kind Mama” (sometimes I like to comfort myself with the fact that there mamas more wackadoo than myself out there, and someone saw fit to give THEM a book deal), and the fourth installment in The Game of Thrones series. And suddenly, the world opened up for us. The other librarians, seeing my daughter hand in hand with the master herself, assumed we were close friends. They put in a request for the fifth book in the series, to be waiting for me upon the return of the fourth. I was secretly informed that if I wanted to watch the series, seasons 1–3 were available on blue-ray, brand new and not even shelved. Would I like them? My daughter was brought back to the desk with her arms laden with little literary nuggets and I thanked her whole-heartedly, as an English teacher. The final nail. Her eyes grew bright and said she was compiling a summer reading list for a high school senior, would I help?
And just like that, the library was ours for the taking. We came, we conquered, we left with two Trader Joe’s re-usable bags full and a promise of a stack of children’s books all involving cooking and food, the complete works of Hans Christen Anderson and The Kinfolk Cookbook waiting for us in two days. Courting the librarian may have been the most lucrative dating I’ve ever done.
*You can read about my other escapades in parenting here and here.
