Are you a grown-up?

Category: dribblings

Working at a ‘brary means I get to see many kids. Most of the kids are great, some are the pits, and a very few are complete stars.

I like kids?
I do, I mean, I like kids. I like your kids. Obviously you don’t have creature-children. Your kids are well-behaved and sweet.

If I try to talk to little kids at work one of two things happen:

1. The kid clams up, turns into a bashful statue or

2. Cries.

So I try not to talk to too many kids, unless they come to me and ask me a question, then it’s on.

ANYway, I’m in the stacks shelving some books and this little girl comes around the corner with one of the library’s stuffed animals. I say, “Hey kiddo.”

I call EVERYONE kiddo.

She says, “Hey.” She’s probably 5 at the VERY oldest.

“I see you’ve got a tiger.” That’s me, tryna be cool.

She ignores my words and says, “I gotta show you something.”

“Okay.”

“Follow me.”

So I follow her to the kid’s section where there are very short tables and chairs for kids to sit in.

“Sit down,” she says, pointing to a tiny chair.

“All right.” I sit.

“Look at this book! It’s so gross!”

She opens up a book about the human body. It for kids! don’t get weird. It has a stomach and a heart in it and the heart makes a “beating” sound but it really just clicks.

“Isn’t it GROSS?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s pretty gross.” Then she starts talking. I mean a-mile-a-minute kid chatter. She starts asking me questions, what’s my name, you got a brother? Just tons of stuff and then, while I’m in the middle of answering a question she says, “Wait a minute… are you a grown-up?” And I wish you could’ve seen the disgust on her face.

“Yes, I’m a grown-up.”

Her face falls, I mean, you’d have thought I had just admitted to Nazi war crimes.

“Do you… Do you work here?!”

“I do. In fact, I need to get back-” she interrupts me by throwing her hand up, not quite in my face, and saying, “Well, I don’t work here cos I’m a KID.”

 

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