Lie-brear-airy Day

puzzles at the library
puzzles at the library

That’s how my son, Scott, who is 3, says “Library Day”. He makes it 4-5 syllables and raises his fists in the air in exhilaration.

The boys love library day. We live in a small town, but our library is wonderful and their children’s section is a brand-new wing filled with children’s books, puzzles, child-sized tables, and a separate room where they hold “Story Time.”

Once a week, they gather all of us moms (and the occasional dad or grandparent) and our toddlers and sing songs, read books, and do a craft all centered around a specific theme. All summer, the themes revolved around an animal. We had cows, pigs, owls, rabbits, etc. Today’s theme was texture.

Scott hits the doors of the library running, and no matter how much I try to shush him or pull him to me (while still holding Johnathan), he manages to break free and run through the library screaming, “It’s lie-brear-airy-day!” After a mad dash to the children’s wing, he loudly says, “HI!” to the woman at the desk, he heads back to the puzzle stations and commandeers the under the sea adventure puzzle.

When it’s time to go into the room, he pushes his way forward so that he can be the first in the room and the first to guess the theme by the books set up around the room. The woman who leads the story time is named Misty. Since that’s my sister’s name, he calls her “Aunt Misty” and feels extremely endeared toward her. I don’t think she quite knows what to do with his exhuberence.

After songs, stories, and crafts, we thank Misty and tell her goodbye and carefully carry our crafts out of the building.

craft time
craft time

Several months ago, they had an author of a children’s book about worms come for a book signing and story time, and they handed out packets of gummy worms. Scott still asks about gummy worms every single lie-brear-airy-day and still doesn’t understand why they don’t give out any more. That kid’s memory is like an elephant, I’m telling you.

From the library, we typically head to the park. “Swings and slides!” Scott screams as he runs across the field from the parking lot to the playground. Johnathan (whose nickname is Jeb) laughs hysterically and, as I’m holding him, pumps his legs in an effort for me to keep up with Scott. I know he’s imagining himself running alongside his brother, keeping up with him in a race to the tunnel slide.

For about an hour they play, then we go home for lunch. Jeb usually falls asleep in the car on the way home. Scott is an insomniac, so we don’t allow him naps during the day too often anymore, and I’ll keep him engaged for the 2 mile road trip home.

Fridays are one of the best days of the week to me. I love how Scott wakes up knowing what day it is. I love how happy it still makes him even after going every Friday for 2 years. When I lay him down in his bed tonight, he’ll want to talk about “lie-brear-airy-day” until I’ll have to shush him and turn out his light.


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