Our kid

This is the kid who, once told we were going to the library, hung onto my leg and cried "Library! Library!" as I brushed my teeth. Cried "Library! Go!" as I got dressed and scarfed down some breakfast. The same kid who, as I finally rushed around to find my keys, my arms full of books and door open, decided



 "I want a shower!"

This is the kind of kid who screams in the library bathroom as I change his diaper because he loves to hear his echo.

The kind of kid who won't sit quietly like ALL the other kids in story time and has to rummage through the librarian's play mailbox as she tries to read a story.  I am the mother sitting there wondering if it's more disruptive to just let him play or go up to the front and make a scene.

He is the one kid who is climbing under the table and thinks it's hilarious to scatter around the art supplies.

He's the kind of child who won't participate with the other kids in the bean bag song, but has to pull out the librarian's bongo drum and play it as loud as he can in the middle of the floor.

He's the one who runs around pulling all the stuffed animals off the shelves and screams as I try to make him pick them up.

He's the kid whose mother leaves early from story time. 

He's the one kid who plays dead and goes completely limp as I gather up another armful of books and say it's time to go home.

He's the kind of kid whose mother is ready for nap.