I decided we needed a library trip last night, even though it wasn’t library night. And even though it was raining. And even though I had a cold over the weekend, and the library may be the single germiest place we ever visit.

In the end I made a list and sent Dane all by his lonesome while I put the kids to bed. He may have had the better end of that deal, come to think of it. Our library requests were as follows:

Audrey: Charlie Parker Played Be Bop [except, of course, that she doesn’t say her r’s or l’s, so it’s more like Chah-wee Pah-keh pwayed bee-bop, bee-bop, bee-bop.]

Owen: Poem books. Don’t forget the poem books.

Me: Thinking Like Your Editor.

Abigail: I’d like a chapter book about a daring girl. Or daring girls. And their lives could be at risk. They could be investigating a crime. And the criminal could see them—or, wait, it could be criminals—the criminals could see them! And then their lives would be at risk. A chapter book like that. Actually, more than one, please.

Right…

(He checked out Lea Wait’s Stopping to Home, which had chapters but no criminals. It did have daring characters, though, and orphaned children, which are pretty much always on Abigail’s list of acceptable story elements.)