I tidied Mini Seymour’s bedroom the other day. I rearranged it, and put things in a kind of order. Despite the lack of carpet and the mish mash of furniture, it was an improvement. I was happy with my work.
Five minutes after leaving the room, I returned to find the book shelf back-to-front, blankets strewn in the corner, DVDs unearthed from their cupboard downstairs and now adorning Mini’s windowsill and JUST A BLOODY MESS where there was not one before.
FFS.
What is all this? I asked.
It’s my library, she proudly declared.
Oh, I said.
How can I tell my little child off for building a library? I cannot. I will not.
I gritted my teeth and walked away from the mess.
This has probably all come about because Number One has been working in the local library recently. This has meant many trips there, and several hours spent amongst the books for the rest of us. We were even there long enough to overhear some librarian-to-librarian speak, as they humorously contemplated their clientele : “You just can’t get the borrowers these days”. I guffawed silently. It reminded me of “Overheard in Waitrose.”
Mini couldn’t get the borrowers either. After she had laid down too many rules, her library didn’t prove popular. And only when she stole the ipad and played a movie in the corner did anyone visit. It’s a shame, really.
But at least I was then able to put her bedroom back together.
When it was tidy later, and she was tucked up in bed, we all agreed it looked nice.
Except, Mini pointed out, for the floor. “Why can’t I have a carpet?” she asked.
Because our budget, coincidentally like the local library’s budget, is spent.
0 Comments