(I've always thought this was a word superior to "library.") What is it about that clear, plastic wrapping on library books that makes them so irresistible? I love the sound they make when you open the spine and start flipping through the pages. I don't know how protective they really are, but since they've been around for years without alteration, apparently they're functional as well as fabulous (although, as Tim repeatedly rants each time he retrieves some, the packaging on graham crackers hasn't changed over the years and yet desperately lacks on the functioning front).
Books are definitely a weakness of mine. I am not one to shower my children with toys (their overflowing playroom notwithstanding), but when it comes to books I find it easy to justify adding to our collection. These days, though, when tightening the belt is in order, I have rediscovered the joys of borrowing from the library. Clare and Danny love it, too. Not only is the outing itself fun, but the idea that you can borrow a sky-high pile of books is also quite alluring. A
s much as we love our trips to Barnes & Noble, they're lucky if they walk out with a stack of one. So today, to combat the cold and the temptation to veg in front of the TV all morning, Danny and I ventured out to the somewhat new local library here in Mableton. It was marvelous! The children's department is very large, and the books seem virtually untouched. Danny immediately gravitated toward horse book after horse book (or at least books featuring illustrations of horses), and was happy to sit on the floor and thumb through the pages. Later he crawled into my lap while I read him a few books, and I honestly can't think of anything better than cuddles and stories. We easily passed the time until lunch, and with my brand-spanking-new library card walked out with a tower of books for the two of them. Which I think we'll delve into during these post-nap hours...
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