There truly is nowhere safe from wailing little crotch muffins, is there?
So here I am, relaxing after a long day of volunteer work in one of my favorite places: the library. 8) Quiet, climate-controlled, dust-free (allergies), quiet, lots of lovely books!!! and did I mention
quiet? Or at least that's what is usually is... But today I hadn't sat down for ten seconds before I hear The Noise. You know the one. That horrible, nerve-grating moans that tell you someone just HAD to bring Bratford with them.
Now I might understand in a regular public library. But this is a library on an enclosed, gated college campus in a quiet neighborhood with plenty of potential babysitters. It's about as safe a place to leave your rugrats at home for a few minutes as there is besides military housing.
Needless to say I was not at all happy when the munchkin inevitably started fussing at top volume. Apparently Dear Old 'dad' was studying for something or other, but somehow didn't comprehend the idea that he could take both books and brat back home and leave the rest of us in peace. Duhddy 'shhhed' at it, which worked for about 5 seconds. Round and round it went - brat yowls, duhd shushes, rinse wash repeat.
FINALLY the kid really starts fussing and will not shut up. Fortunately dad has enough brains to realize it's a lost cause and exits stage right. By now my nerves have been well trod on and I'd thought of all kinds of ways to remedy the situation. Most of them involved some combination of anesthetic and application of blunt objects. :yeah So maybe now I can enjoy some quiet time.