More Library Experiences
I worked from 2:00 to 8:00 today. Shortly after I arrived, I was shelving in the children's section when a girl asked for help finding a book. She was maybe eight years old, wearing a neat little dress, and had impeccable manners. She wanted a book about guinea pigs.
To read to her guinea pig.
It seemed, as best she could explain it, that she had seen a movie wherein a guinea pig enjoyed being read to. Or possibly she was trying to indicate that her guinea pig enjoyed movies as well as being read to. There was a movie, at any rate. And she wanted to read a book about guinea pigs to her guinea pig. "One that's not real," she said. "A story."
"How about Little Critter?" I asked, showing her the book. I'd always thought of Little Critter as a hamster, though the books never say; I thought he might make a passable guinea pig. "He looks like he might be a guinea pig." I looked at the cover. Really, he looked more like a hamster. "Or a hamster," I admitted.
"He's a hamster," the girl said gently. "I want a book about guinea pigs. He'll like that."
I looked up "guinea pig" in the computer. Just as I'd expected, we had several books on the care of guinea pigs. We also had one which was clearly referring to guinea pigs as an edible animal. ("It's a cookbook!") This clearly would not do. Unexpectedly, though, I found several children's storybooks which just happened to star guinea pigs. I pulled two for the girl, and she sat down, like a responsible parent, to pre-read them.
"These are nice," she told me as I passed, doing more shelving.
"Good!" I said.
She ended up checking them both out. I told her I hoped the guinea pig liked them. And you know, I do.
To read to her guinea pig.
It seemed, as best she could explain it, that she had seen a movie wherein a guinea pig enjoyed being read to. Or possibly she was trying to indicate that her guinea pig enjoyed movies as well as being read to. There was a movie, at any rate. And she wanted to read a book about guinea pigs to her guinea pig. "One that's not real," she said. "A story."
"How about Little Critter?" I asked, showing her the book. I'd always thought of Little Critter as a hamster, though the books never say; I thought he might make a passable guinea pig. "He looks like he might be a guinea pig." I looked at the cover. Really, he looked more like a hamster. "Or a hamster," I admitted.
"He's a hamster," the girl said gently. "I want a book about guinea pigs. He'll like that."
I looked up "guinea pig" in the computer. Just as I'd expected, we had several books on the care of guinea pigs. We also had one which was clearly referring to guinea pigs as an edible animal. ("It's a cookbook!") This clearly would not do. Unexpectedly, though, I found several children's storybooks which just happened to star guinea pigs. I pulled two for the girl, and she sat down, like a responsible parent, to pre-read them.
"These are nice," she told me as I passed, doing more shelving.
"Good!" I said.
She ended up checking them both out. I told her I hoped the guinea pig liked them. And you know, I do.