We rouged our cheeks and pulled our stockings on. The girls and I even slicked our hair and buckled our shoes for a night filled with toe-tapping and all that jazz at a local theatre. The night lived up to the razzle, dazzle of numbers from the Broadway musical, “Chicago.” But somehow, this weekend’s standing ovation went to a bookish moment at the library.
For months, the girls have flapped, shuffled and hopped their way through rehearsals leading up to the big show. Their grandparents from Indiana made the more than 10 hour drive to join their father, other grandparents and great-aunt for their tap show debut. Backstage the excitement was palpable. Their tiny feet jumping up and down sent vibrations pulsating through the wings. Their bubbly giggles were silenced by a “shhh” every few seconds until they dance across the stage to “The Candy Man.” It was a truly satisfying and delicious moment to tap alongside both my four and five-year-olds as their wish of “dancing like Mommy” came true.
Despite the applause, the roses, and the praise, that wasn’t my five-year-old’s show stopping number this weekend.
Over the school year, our young reader went from carefully sounding out words to whizzing through book after book. It’s more than a love of reading. Right now, it’s her life. Every page brings a new adventure and a new challenge. She reads everywhere- in the car, at the kitchen counter, on the back deck, to any visitor who steps a foot through our front door, in bed, and even in the bathroom whenever I attempt to shower. Her reading is currently the soundtrack to our life.
Her veracious appetite for reading has left few books unopened both at school and at home. It was clearly time for another trip to the library to get her first library card.
She could hardly see over the top of the help desk as she dictated her name and address for the librarian. She couldn’t even reach the books on the top shelves. But she seemed to float through the library carefully grasping onto the card that seemed to bring her newfound freedom and adventure. Books were pulled on dolphins and koalas and carefully examined. Some made it into her quickly growing stack. Others were handed back to me to re-shelve. She eventually left with seven books and the promise of returning once she finished them.
“What was the favorite part of your weekend,” I asked as we got home.
Taking a moment to look up from reading, she smiled and replied, “going to the library with you, Mommy.”
And that’s what she told her teacher and the class the next day. It’s safe to assume that we’ll probably be making another trip back to the library over the next few days.
