Savvy goes to the library
So I was on the phone today with Savvymom, who tells me that Savvy The Precious' latest trick is called Running Away (from her mom, into traffic, you name it).
Savvymom: So today I tried to take her to the Orem library because it has the good storytime and the teepee and the stained glass and stuff. Only we get there, and she tears off through the doors and runs all the way through the lobby and down the aisle of the entire children's section, screaming like a banshee the whole time. And because it's got that 3-story vaulted ceiling, the accoustics in there are great. And I can't go chasing after her because I was holding the baby and all their crap and I had a sore knee from where I fell in the dark last night just before I yelled the f-word really loud. So she reaches the teepee at the end, then turns around and starts running the other way, back toward the entrance, completely ignoring me, and when she gets to the automatic doors they open! Whose stupid idea was it to make automatic doors that open for toddlers anyway?
Me: I think the activation thing is in the floor, so they wouldn't be able to distinguish. She didn't run out into traffic or anything, did she?
Savvymom: No, a librarian got in front of her and said, "Your mommy told you to stop." And anyway, they need to change those doors so that you have to be like 3 feet tall to activate them.
Me: But they can't, because that would descriminate against dwarfs.
Savvymom: What??
Me: Yeah, against dwarfs, and against people in wheelchairs, maybe.
Savvymom: Well they could just raise their arm up or something. And, hello, people in wheelchairs would be more than 3 feet tall.
Me: Not if they're dwarfs in wheelchairs. What then, huh? And also if the secret is just to raise your hand, Savvy would totally pick up on that.
Savvymom: And just how many dwarfs in wheelchairs do you think she's gonna see at the Orem Public Library, you freak?
Me: Hey, I'm just saying!
Savvymom: Whatever, you're such an idiot.
By this point we were both laughing uncontrollably.
Me: Hey, can I put this in my blog?
Savvymom: Sure, why not . . .
Only I don't think I told her that I was going to tattle on her for using the f-word. Only she probably will still get the china even if she is a potty-mouth, because she has produced both a male heir and a female heir, even if the female heir is trying her very best to get run over by a car.
5 comments:
Poor handicapped dwarfs. They are such an underrepresented slice of society. Did you know that for the price of your daily cup of coffee you could be paying for a handicapped dwarf to go to the library? Let's get out there and help them. Let's help reduce our children's ignorance. Thank you.
Love,
Sally Struthers
Somehow I wish I had an MP3 of the conversation.
When I was overseas, my brother Chewy and my sister-in-law Chewae were only just barely starting to date. I got a mass letter written by my whole family. This is how the letters read.
Ramblidad: "It's nice to hear you're doing well."
Ramblimom: "Please don't come home sick."
Mortimer: "Chewy and Ramblidad are having a stupid conversation."
Chewy: "We're writing letters and discussing what people did before toenail clippers. Ramblidad said 'It brings new meaning to the term you scratch my back; I'll scratch yours doesn't it."
Chewae: "Your family is weird."
Nemesis, your post reminded me of the day I received that letter...
Now you know why we kept Savvymom on a kid leash when she was that age. Like mother like...
Who IS sally struthers? That's my politics teacher's name!
Hey--we were at the library yesterday for storytime (we didn't make it until the 10:30 one). Sophie also likes to run around the children's section screaming like a banshee. I figure it's OK, since it's the kid's section. Yesterday the lady doing laptime got out a bunch of pots and pans and sticks for the kids to make noise with, so I figure they can't be expecting too much silence from the kids. I do hate it when we go over to the other side to see Master Fob and she runs around yelling "Daddy check my books" at the top of her lungs, though. People usually look and smile, but I think that they're secretly annoyed with her and me. And the automatic doors scare me too--they're handy when you're arms are full of books, not so handy when you're trying to control a toddler.
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