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When a friend of mine mentioned her love of the library recently, a idyllic image came to mind. There was a mother, there were two happy children, and there were three large piles of loved books.
I really should take my kids, too, I thought. It’s time I stopped slacking off. So, I packed us up and off we went.
There was screaming. There was peeing. And there was a dramatic parking lot escape. And the next day, all I had to show for it was a pile of books in the trunk of my car that would soon have to be returned . . . to the library.
Last time I compare myself to anyone ever again. Last, I tell you. Maybe.