New car, new hair...I'm starting to feel like a real grownup instead of the kid masquerading as one!

It's a good thing that she's working for her current employer instead of her previous one, which was a veritable nightmare. Dad, Cory, and I all ganged up on her to make her quit; they had her working twelve hour days sorting mail, with criticism instead of thanks. She's a perfectionist, and always strives to do nothing less than a super job at everything she tries, and the constant harping was driving her batty; she came home from work every night in tears. She thought she couldn't find another job, though, because she didn't know anything about computers. I don't know what finally changed her mind, but she was able to quickly get hired for better pay at a much nicer company.

Well, nicer when they're not making her come back to work before she's fully healed.

Needless to say, after two session of that, I was moving at a slow crawl.

But I had no time to rest, because Time for Twos storytime started up again tonight, so I had to get my butt in gear and sing "Six Little Ducks." It's physically impossible to maintain any sort of professional dignity, I've discovered, while waggling a finger over one's rear end and singing "Quack, quack, quack!" But the kids loved it, though they were more inclined to giggle at me than to participate themselves.

(Sidenote: I demonstrated said song for my husband a few nights ago. He, also, was inclined to stare with a huge smile, especially when I got to the verse involving "wibbling" and "wobbling." I decided to tone down my dancing for the storytimes.)

In addition to all the dancing fun, the library network is down. Again. Patrons are starting to get very upset with us, and I can't blame them. We're starting to get short with each other, as patience starts to wear thin and we grow more and more tired of having to grope about blindly for sources. Days like these make me crave the old paper catalogs, which, while perhaps hard to keep updated, at least never spontaneously combusted in the middle of a search. At least, not in this library's history.

She and her mother stayed for a bit, and the child decided to keep bringing me books to read aloud to her. I guess we had a "private" storytime, just for her. I didn't mind; she's a precious little thing, always grinning and batting huge blue eyes at me.

When her mommy decided it was time to go, we all stood up, and the girl grabbed my hand.

"You can't take her home with us! I think she'd rather go home to her husband," Mother said.

"Her home wif me," little one cried. At her mother's prodding, she conceded the point, turned to me, and said, "Fee you water, gater." Talk about "melt your heart" moments!

Pardon that Freudian slip. It's just been one of those weeks.