The Library

It was shaping up to be a great evening and a very successful outing with my two boys, if such a thing is possible. I had devised a point system for keeping their behavior in check, tired of the old "I'm-gonna-call-your-daddy" routine, and was feeling quite proud of how well the system was working so far. Points, I had explained, would be awarded for good behavior and subtracted for unacceptable behavior, with "treats" to be bought at the dollar store on the way home at 50 cents a point. Tonight good behavior consisted of being quiet in the car, staying together, and most importantly using our whisper voices in the library.

The boys loved the new system, and each had earned two points already in the car. We rehearsed our whisper voices before we went in, holding hands. Quietly we perused the children's books, each choosing a few to take home, even discussing in whispered voices why we liked this one or that one. Now we just needed to pick out a few movies and we'd be on our way. Standing there in the movie aisle, Seth (6), who'd had one too many Fiber One muffins at snacktime, let slip a small, almost inaudible gas emission. Of course my three-year-old Dan heard it, stretched out his arm to point, and before I could get my hand over his mouth, announced loudly,

"HE FARTED!"

I fell to my knees, shushing him a minute too late, and tried my hardest not to laugh while I watched Seth walk away, pretending not to know us. My attempt to avoid laughing was useless, since the library's staff and all its patrons had now erupted in giggles. When Seth finally returned to my side, all he could say was "Please tell me he lost a point for that."

We quickly chose two movies and made our way to the check-out, where the librarian smiled gleefully at us, along with a host of patrons at the nearby computers. "Don't you just love the innocence of children?" she asked. "Love it," I said, ready to make our exit.

Walking out, I agreed to let Seth carry the books and Dan carry the movies, so my hands would be free to hold each of their hands. We made it as far as the library lobby before I felt our little train shifting to the right. I looked up to see a sign marked "Return Books Here" and watched helplessly as our beloved Daniel dropped both of our new movies down the slot.

Yes, we went back in, but this time without a trace of pride left. I just stood there laughing while Seth explained to the librarians what his brother had done. With movies back in hand, we moved our little train to the car once more, discussing the meaning of the word "incorrigible." They were good boys the rest of the evening, enjoyed their treats and went to bed without argument. They even earned points during bathtime and redeemed them for bedtime stories. Overall I think the new discipline system was a success--you just can't ask a small boy to ignore bodily noises. (Or book drops.)