Today I took my boys to the library. It’s what you do when your kids are fussy and you have no more tricks up your sleeve. You strap them into their car seats, and you drive–to a drive-thru Starbucks, maybe, where you take a few deep breaths, and then, if they’re lucky (and if you’re adequately caffeinated), you end up somewhere fun: like the park or the library, which is where we wound up today. But I had no idea I’d end up finding a long-lost treasure …
After a brief stint in the cooking and home design sections (I say brief because we were hurried out by evil stares after my 2 year old started pulling books off the shelf and handing them to me, declaring in a voice that was about 10 decibels too loud, “where dat book go, mama?” And when I encouraged him to whisper, he just amped things up more: “MAMA, WHERE DAT BOOK GO?”). Sorry people, the kid is 2! I try my best!
So we ended up in the children’s section. After loading our bag up with books about bugs, because that’s the stage we’re in, a book on a far shelf caught my eye.
Backstory: I’ve been thinking about this book–a book I used to love as a child–about a bear’s love for jam sandwiches. Odd, I know. But as a child, this book was magical to me. I had no idea what it was called, if I’d ever find it again, or perhaps, if it was just a dream-like figment from Kindergarten.
So imagine my surprise when I saw the book, “Bread and Jam for Frances,” on the shelf. It was a moment.
Of course, I checked it out and brought it home, where I read it to Carson before bed tonight.