Storytime at the library: a group of three to five year olds, most are quiet and focused on the story of the mouse and his house, at least for the moment. Some parents sit on the floor among the children; others sit in chairs in the back of the room, many have babies or toddlers in their laps, every so often a baby shrieks or cries.
Then, a late arrival: a mother and child close the door quietly behind them; the mother sits in the back, the child walks to the front and sits. But only for a second. He gets up and stands in front of the children, facing them, and begins to jump in place. The mother scrambles to her feet–she hurries over to the side of the room, trying to get his attention and get him to sit down. The children and parents barely notice–they are a group of small children and parents of small children utterly unperturbed by a small child acting like one. Until–
The Librarian: Stops reading. Stares at Jumping Child. Seconds tick by . . . it’s an eternity. The boy jumps and jumps. She glares.
Now everyone watches him jump in silence, and his mother gestures to him frantically.
Me (in my head): Oh, dear god, please keep reading. . .
Librarian to Child: “Eyes front, please.”
Child: Ignores her. Continues to jump.
Librarian (with rosy cheeks, but severe eyes): “Eyes front, please.” Pause–a very long one. “Eyes front, please.” Pause, even longer.
The Mother: Starts to pick her way through the seated mass of children to the front; she has an embarrassed smile and murmurs, “Oh, sorry, oh, sorry . . .”
Everyone watches her awkwardly step over toes and fingers to get to her child.
Me (still in my head): Why, oh, why aren’t you reading? No one cares about this dear boy’s jumping. His mother is taking care of it. Give her a chance. Read, read, read!
Librarian (like a stuck tape recorder): “Eyes front, please. Sit down.” The children are more quiet and attentive now than ever–this is a tense showdown between the Librarian and the Jumping Child.
The Mother: Gets to the front of the room. She’s right next to her boy, about to lead him away . . . when he falls to the floor, flat on his back, grinning at her. You can almost hear him: Checkmate, Mummy. She kneels in front of him, her posture deflates, her head cocks to the side, her forehead wrinkles. You can almost hear her: Oh, please, please, don’t do this to me.
Librarian, and so everyone else: Still silent, still staring.
Me (still in my head, but yelling so loudly that I’m afraid it might slip out): Read, woman, READ! For the love of all that’s holy, READ! I’m nearly ready to nudge Martin and ask him to do something three-year-old-ish because the pain I’m feeling for this mother is getting to be too much.
Librarian: “Maybe you should take him out.” And maybe I will glare at you in silence until you do, refusing to read so that everyone in the room has nothing else to do but watch you.
Mother and Child leave.
Well told. I’m feeling the stress from way over here. Why do people who find children irritating work in jobs that force them to have contact with children? Like condescending, hostile school secretaries. If you don’t like people, don’t work in a public service job! Sheesh.
Ouch! I hope the mother felt your solidarity vibes.
(I tagged you. Profuse apologies, I wanted to nab my new reads.)
I had that feeling while reading this. Like I was there. Like it was me. Because I have been there and it has been me.
What if we all just went to the loving? Especially when children are involved.
This is so beautifully observed, well done, terrific post!
That sort of thing really gets me, mostly when a child is ‘misbehaving’ it is bugging its own mother much more than you so cut the mother some slack.
She did nothing to shatter the old stereotype of the Evil Librarian. I feel so bad for the mom. I’ve been that mother.
It looks like we’ve all been there–and so has everyone in that room. What got me is that the mom was trying so hard–it’s not like she was sitting in the back flipping through a magazine.
Our usual storytime librarian is filled with love for the kids–but can keep order, too. Of course, I start imagining that this mean one is actually either going through a divorce, seeing her father die, losing her house, etc. and that I may have caught her on the worst day of her life . . . or maybe she’s just mean. I hope I’m not too scared to go to her storytime again to see. . .
It’s always interesting to me when people who are in service industries act in ways that really hurt them in the long run. Librarians, of all people, ought to be extremely nice considering the way funding is being cut and the competition from the Internet, coffee store/book chains etc.
On the other hand, that personality type is so intertwined with the rules it’s nearly impossible for them to let anything go. Sadly, I see it a lot with teachers too. They become a living embodiment of the rules and all their self-worth is tied up in that. Therefore when rules are broken it’s a personal attack on all they hold dear which results in some irrational and sometimes overly emotional responses. Not the way I’d want to live.
This post just makes my heart hurt. Why on earth is a jerk like that doing storytime with 3 year olds! They don’t always obey and keep their eyes to the front.
Wow. My storytime experiences aren’t exactly great, but at least the librarian isn’t so rude.
I just wanna go hug that mom and kid who had to leave.
Gorgeous post. Dramatic and shivery. Every mother’s dread. The librarian, that is. We can handle the kids. They’re kids, right? It’s that judgemental authority figure that scares me.
I feel so bad for that mum! And to be shamed about something that’s not at all shameful! Exclamation marks galore.
You told that story so well. When the librarian told the poor mom to leave with the little boy my eyes bugged out of my head.
Yes, librarians and school secretaries…why do they find it so hard to smile?
I’ve done so much time in library storytimes in the past three years. Underneath their happy facade, they’re rife with drama. You captured it beautifully.
I triple dog dare all of you to do a story time with just as many active three to five year olds. Rinse and repeat for several years and you might have a showdown of your own. I’m not saying she was right for making it a showdown, that just fed into the kid getting attention for a negative behavior.
so…did the librarian pull out a ruler and threaten to smack him too? because i can totally picture her doing it. who on earth says, “eyes front please?” to a toddler? good grief!
ummm this is tricky…I’d have left with my child, taken him out and given him one more chance to straighten up, or else we’d leave for good. The Librarian should’ve said, “There will be time to jump at the end of the story” or “You need to go work out the jumping beans and come back and join us.”