The check out

This Sunday at church I was granted a temporary reprieve from a marathon shift in the nursery. Joy asked me to hit the church library and return a movie she'd checked out for our kids. Every Sunday she checks out a new video from the church library and then we watch that video with our kids before their Sunday nap. We're pretty routinized. So I dutifully went and picked out a new Veggie Tales movie. By "new," I mean a Veggie Tales that we've seen less than 10 times.


As I waited for my turn to check out I was approached by a madwoman. Okay, she wasn't really a madwoman...but she looked the part. She limped up to me in a blue and white polyester blazer with matching polyester pants. It was a classic 70's get-up. Her hair was also blue. She closed space on me in a hurry, considering her gait. I was cornered! Suddenly she spoke- I expected dust to come pouring out of her mouth the moment she opened it. She said, "You want to know a book that is absolutely excellent?" (How could I possibly say no to such a question? I wondered at first if it was rhetorical or if she expected an answer. Her expectant glare clued me in)


"Um...yeah."


This was my first mistake. She led me to a small table in the library and turned her back on me. Suddenly, with surprising agility and impishly deft hands, she started gathering huge books from all over the place and rapidly created a small replica of Mt. Vesuvius, constructed entirely from books.


Once she was satisfied she turned to me and said, "now...which one was it?" She began thumbing through the books and narrowed it down to about ten huge tomes. "It was one of these ones," she assured me. Then she added, "I have a memory problem." Astounded, I uncorked a blank stare for the ages. I wish I could take full credit for it- but really it was the result of me being speechless as much as anything. Unbelievably, she met my gaze with unmatched intensity and fervor. Clearly I had met my match.


Being the sportsman that I am, I grabbed the smallest book and turned towards the check out. "Only one?" She cackled. I couldn't believe my ears! My mind ran through the menu of sarcastic retorts. I chose the high road: "I have two small toddlers at home." She stated, "I would just tell them to wait when I was reading."


I was nearing the end of my patience. I imagined reclining in a child-free nursing home with her and unleashing hot literary fury. I imagined telling her how I could read so fast my eyes might cause a tornado or disrupt the time-space continuum. I imagined inviting her to sit the boys for a night and go ahead and bring a few books over. Again, I took the high road: "well maybe I'll just start with one and come back for the test when I finish." She scoffed and then waited and watched me check out.