Listening, eavesdropping, innocently overhearing... call it what you will, I catch a lot of conversations as I shelve in the kids' section. Luckily, quite a few of them are heartwarming, or at least entertaining.
There's the dad who deliberates seriously with his toddler over their choice of Clifford book. The two-year-old who picks up a Go, Diego, Go! book with English text and chirps out a story beginning, "Hola! Yo soy Diego!" The parents who, similarly, translate entire books into their native languages for their kids' benefit. (Bless patient parents' hearts.)
I hear, "Mommy! Those grown-ups are looking at kids' books!"
Or "I told you John Grisham's new book was for kids. See, Mom? Newspaper knows all."
Or "Time to go, sweetie." "Can I just hug the hippo for one more minute?" (Child proceeds to do so for at least a full minute. Hippo is a stuffed James Marshall creature, in case that context is necessary.)
It's a great soundtrack to my workday. But really, I'll be cool as long as I keep hearing, "They have it! Yes!"
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