Crazy Bookstore People

We make quite the scene at Barnes and Noble.  If you’ve heard stories about a strange family in there recently, odds are, it was us.

First there is Magoo.  You would think she had never seen a toy or a book before.  Every toy she saw, she would literally start jumping up and down screaming.  Oftentimes, screams would turn into screeches.  And I feel for anyone who might have been around us when she saw a book or toy that we have (which happens often) because the squeals become so high pitched, one might be surprised that the sound is registered on human ears.

And then there’s the Goose.  I think all I need to say about her is that she was running around the store and “cleaning everything up” while wearing only a tutu swimming suit.  I’d tell the whole story that led to this, but let’s just say that it involved her, TJ, and a whole crap load of poop.  She got quite a few stares in this ensemble.

And then there’s me.  I like thinking that I’m the voice of reason in the family, the beacon of normalcy.  But for anyone who knows me, that prospect is ludicrous.  I’m the mom running around, looking at everything in awe.  I can’t help it.  It’s like a wonderland to me.  I see the books, and I dream of hours cuddled on the couch with the girls.  I see the puzzles and games and imaginative toys and I think how fun it would be to interact with the girls while working on the crafts and activities.  My mind swirls with possibilities, and after a short period of this, I’m in another world.  It’s a heady experience.  I may or may not be heard breathing words like “wonderful,” “magical,” “ahhhhmazing” at each new item.

And then there’s TJ.  I guess one would say that he is the real voice of reason in the family.  He’s the one holding it all together.  That is until he sees some kid’s version of a Star Trek or Star Wars book.  At that point, you will see him crouched in a corner trying to explain the plot summary of Star Wars to his one year old who would much prefer to eat the book than listen.

So if you are about town and you happen to hear people whispering about the crazy book store people, stop them and tell them that we are not crazy.  We are just eccentric.  And passionate.  And well… perhaps a little bit crazy.