One of the pleasures of grandparenthood is chauffeuring the grandkids near and far. We live a thousand miles from our progeny, so visits are spread out and therefore special. At times simple missions produce unforeseen outcomes.
My granddaughter skipped over to the children’s room, chose half a dozen books, dumped them in my lap, and began playing with toys strategically placed around the room.
Organizing Sami’s haul, I realized we did not have a library card with us. My husband Steve approached the librarian and was informed we could not check out any items without a valid card. We could not get a card without proof of county residence which, living in another state, we did not possess. The kids could not obtain a card without a parent’s signature.
We needed another plan.
Grandpa Steve drove back to the house to retrieve a card. He returned with a valid card, problem solved, or so we thought.
Meanwhile my 10-year-old grandson, after much thoughtful perusal of the stacks, selected two books, but could not locate others he wanted. The librarian directed him to another section of the library, but Hal soon returned empty-handed and discouraged.
I suggested he place what he wanted on hold. He wandered over to a computer and attempted to place the desired volumes on hold.
The computer refused his request. He tried again. Rejected again, he returned to the information desk. Something must be wrong with the computer, he informed the librarian.
After punching a series of keys on her computer the librarian informed my grandson no materials could be put on hold or checked out because of unpaid fines.
Hal shuffled over and related the latest roadblock to his quest.
I approached the librarian. What was the problem?
The librarian informed me that overdue fines invalidated the family’s library cards. If the fines remained unpaid, money owed would be sent for collection on the first of the month, three days away.
Who ever heard of library fines sent to a collection agency?
“How much is due?” I innocently inquired.
“Fifty-seven dollars and forty cents.”
Excuse me? Steve and I stared at each other. We must have heard wrong.
“How much?”
“Fifty-seven dollars and forty cents,” the librarian repeated.
Who owed so much money in library fines? That was a lot of unreturned books.
The library’s computer had not made a mistake. Most of the fines, Hal admitted, were his. But it was not all his fault. Apparently Mom had a habit of driving around for days with a stack of books in the trunk, intending to return them but never getting around to it.
There were two solutions to our dilemma. We could leave the library with two unhappy children, or pay the fine and complete our transactions.
Grandma and Grandpa could not depart with two sad young souls. Great grandparents that we are (great in the wonderful sense, not the generational way), we paid the fine.
Hal returned to the computer and placed his desired items on hold.
We checked out the books both kids had chosen and drove home. Mom appeared only a little bit sheepish, glad she wouldn’t have to stop at the library for a while to return books, pay fines, or simply spend time. I am sure she hoped Hal’s requested tomes would not be available soon.
It was, without a doubt, the most expensive trip to a free library I ever experienced.
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