A time to wail

This is a story about how I was thrilled to be around a screaming child at the library. Really.

Now, this is not how I usually feel when confronted with crying children in public. But it all depends on your perspective.

I was looking through the audio CDs (scholarly works like Dave Barry's Guide to Guys and The Cat Who Went Bananas) when a nearby child started to express, in no uncertain terms, his unhappiness with something. Maybe he did not want to listen to one more page of Goodnight, Moon. Maybe he was out of Cheerios. Maybe being a three-year-old stuck in a stroller with all those tempting book displays juuuust out of reach was finally too much for him. Whatever it was, it was enough to start him wailing.

And wailing. And wailing. I'm sure whatever the record is for a screaming child, this one shattered it. The parent acted as if she had no idea who this child was. I suspected she was used to this.

The screaming started to interfere with my reading of the cover of The Cat Who Went Bananas. And then it started to interfere with my sanity. All I could think was Be quiet, kid.

I read, "Has Koko the Siamese cat gone bananas, or will he help unravel the mystery of...."

"Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Be quiet, kid!

I began to imagine what Koko, the cat who went bananas, might do when confronted with a child who wouldn't stop screaming. I didn't think it would be pretty.

"WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

BE QUIET, KID!

And then, blessedly, he was quiet. And the next second, my cell phone rudely rang into the silence.

It's a happy little tune, but in that setting it was as loud and obnoxious as the kid's yelling had been.

I scrambled frantically around in my purse, trying to find the phone, at the same time juggling The Cat and Dave and a couple of other CDs. And all the time the phone was singing, and I was thinking, The big, bad librarian is going to throw me out! She's going to march right over here -- I was less than three feet from the checkout counter -- and just yank my phone out of my purse and grind it to powder right here in front of everyone!

I have had a fear of librarians all my life. I don't know why. I was a meek kid who loved books, so I don't think I ever got in trouble in a library. But somehow I always knew there was the potential to get in trouble, even if I wasn't doing anything wrong.

As I fumbled for my phone, I realized there was one thing that could save me from the librarian's wrath. Keep crying, kid! Keep crying! I thought frantically.

And he did. Miraculously, beautifully, he began his screaming tirade again, loud enough so that even I couldn't hear the phone.

Now, lest you think that I somehow encouraged the child to continue his protests, I assure you that he was not within range for me to kick his stroller or lob War and Peace (137 CDs; Running time: a few decades) in his direction. I did not make faces at him, as my brother is wont to do to children in public when their parents aren't watching. I was completely innocent of any such influence.

But I could have kissed him as I finally turned off the phone.