Mean Mommy - Library Outlaw

One of my absolute favorite places in the world is the library. I love that library smell of old books, air-conditioning and exhaust from the coin-operated copy machine. I love the quiet and impeccable order imposed by the librarians with their knowledge of the Dewey decimal system and eyes glasses on chains. The library is my sanctuary and oasis when I am stressed, a place where I can wander the aisles and ponder how each tome represents someone's hard work and feel guilty when I pass one up over bad cover art (I'm talking to you "chick lit" writers). I even went there in a fit of desperation crippled with pregnancy "I'm-taking-an-iron-supplement-as-big-as-my-head" induced constipation knowing it was the one place in the world I was guaranteed to be relaxed enough to poop (Seriously, it happens every time and can be a bit of a drag when I have all three kids with me. Thank God for the handicapped stall!).

I love the library, but I have to admit, there are times I do not act as such. While I rip books from the shelves with great fervor, staggering to the circulation desk under the weight of my selections, I am not so hot when it comes to returning them. I view those little cards with the due back date stamped on them merely as suggestions. If I return a book within the month listed I consider it a smashing success. On more than one occasion I have dodged calls from the library (love caller ID!) or pretended to be the babysitter when I have accidentally picked up a call from the librarian telling me second (or third) late notices are being sent out. And yes, I have had my privileges suspended pending remittance of the full price of a book the library thinks I've lost but is really under my bedside table or, best case scenario, languishing in the back of the van waiting to be returned.

The terrible thing is I have absolutely no remorse about my tardiness. In my eyes, the longer I keep The Joy Luck Club, the more copies the library can buy of whatever pap that guy who wrote Tuesdays with Morrie has recently shat out. While I will run right to the library if they call telling me someone is waiting for a book, since that is a sacred library law not to be broken, I figure the shelves will not be intellectually bankrupt without a copy of The Devil Wears Prada if no one's looking for it.

I also consider the after-hours drop box my personal dumping ground. I return books, but also throw in any donations I'm making to the library as well. And while the sign clearly states that audio-visual materials can not be returned using this slot, I do so without batting an eye. My thinking? Well, if you look at the library's adult movie collection (I mean regular movies, not porn, perverts) versus the children's collection it is quite clear that only parents are really taking out AV materials with any regularity since the newest realease for grown-ups is Money Train. So if this is indeed the case, then why would you make a poor mother drag all three of her kids into the building so they can scream when they see her "giving back" the copy of Sesame Stree Karaoke they've been watching on loop since school got out? Consider breaking this rule my gift to you then.

So thank you library, for all the joy you bring to my life and I am sorry for any rules I break. While there have been many changes over the years (Farewell card catalogue! Hello weird guys using the free internet access.) I still love you as I always have. I hope to instill a love for you in my children as well. I'm sure #2, with her poo issues, will not be a hard sell.