Library time...

I took the boys to the library tonight.

I'm wondering now whether the librarians will ever forgive me for that.

My preschooler was fascinated by the button which made the door swing open for the handicapped (or for those with their hands full of books), and he kept pushing it while I was trying to help his brother find a book or DVD. The librarians had to speak up several times to remind him not to play with the button. I had to physically go remove him from the button--- or the doorway--- each time. *^_^*

Older Son, on the other hand, was impossible to please. He had his heart set on the Dora the Explorer video he spotted upon entrance to the library, and was crestfallen when I pointed out we have no VCR upon which to play it. Since he couldn't have that, he wanted another DVD... and this was the tricky part. There was nothing which caught his interest in that particular branch.

He insisted on looking through the card catalog (which nowadays is computerized), and, after much unproductive searching, was disheartened to learn that anything available in this branch was already on the shelf... which we'd already scoured. So then he started to wander the library, looking to see what else was available.

This would not normally be an issue... except that his little brother chose at that time to start following him wherever he went. And this did not sit well with our young hero.

"Stop following me!" Dart to another area... shadow only a few steps behind him.

"STOP FOLLOWING ME! Mom, make him stop!!" And he was off to another section, followed swiftly by the inquisitive bother... I mean, brother.

I sighed and checked out my books, then went to where I last saw them... in the vault.

Side note: This branch apparently used to be a bank branch, complete with a vault. The mighty door, a foot thick, stands permanently open, welded in place so that no one will be locked inside.

Or so we all thought.

I found my boys there... with a smoky glass door between them.

A locked glass door, with my older son on the inside.

I stood there, gently pushing on the door (I didn't want to break the door) as a librarian came up... and she let out a quiet exclamation of concern. "Where did that door come from?!?" she asked.

I shrugged, somewhat amazed that she worked there and didn't know it existed. I didn't know where it came from, either. Before she'd walked up, I'd guessed that it slid down, as there was space under the bottom... and then I realized that there was also space over the top, which invalidated that idea.

"But how did it get locked?" was her next question.

Again, I didn't know the answer.

But my Squid did.

"I turned the little knob here," he said, pointing. And he just stood there.

Typical Squid.

Slightly exasperated, I told him, "Then unlock it!" So he reached up and did so.

The librarian and I pushed the door open, and as I hurried my boys back out, she wondered aloud, "But where did it come from? I've never seen it before!"

Older Son piped up again: "It was back against that wall."

The librarian told me there used to be a small table there, which apparently held the door back so that no one noticed it. She sent her coworker to look, because she, too, hadn't known it existed before my boy decided to lock himself into the vault... just to escape his little brother.

I seriously wonder if they're going to remember us when we come back... or if they'll run for cover.