There was a dreadful occurrence at my house yesterday. My husband beckoned me and solemnly showed me the results of my negligence.
He inquired whether I had paid it. I hadn’t even seen it so, “Um…no”.
My husband then kindly handed me the bill and didn’t say a word after that. He owed me a pass after my sweetness during his August driving miscalculation.
What I’ve learned: Apparently, if you mostly ignore the fact that a library book has gone missing, then the problem does not go away. You will receive a bill for a ridiculous amount with a bluntly worded threat that your bill may be sent to collections.
I”m sure it’s a phenomenal book. I wouldn’t know. We never read it before its mysterious disappearance.
Last week I helped my kids shovel out their room in an attempt to locate the book–nothing. Though I did find several missing shoes.
I actually have a specific place for library books. We just haven’t been using it! I should have known the library was too risky right now.
So! I’m implementing a self-imposed ban on the library until…
B. My children become exceptional examples of put-backedness.