At the Library

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I remember the carpet on the stairs that led to the kids' room at my childhood library.  It was blood red.  Combined with the old-fashioned bannister and stained glass window, it made going to the library feel like creeping into a story book castle.  It was magical.

Our newly renovated library--just opened a few weeks ago--is the exact opposite in many ways.  It's light and modern and open.  But, for a second, as the Kid and I first walked through the shiny glass doors last week, I got a little of that same magic-y tingle.

In addition to checking out the new digs, we had to take care of the very important business of turning in the Kid's summer reading program list.  Do any of you remember doing that when you were little?  Where you kept a list of books you'd read and then traded it in for a prize?

I remember thinking that it was the biggest scam.  We'd get swim passes and ice cream and all sorts of little goodies, all for reading books.  I would've given the librarian prizes if that had been what was required to get to take home a big stack of stories.  I always felt a little guilty, but not guilty enough to turn down the ice cream!