Golly Gee

Growing up, there were a handful of albums that were always stacked on the record player (I know. So old. Shut up.): Cat Stevens, Simon and Garfunkel, Godspell, Pippin, Sesame Street Fever and Come on and Zoom.

Remember Zoom?  I was never really into the show (it skewed older. I was--and still am-- a Sesame Street kid) but, man, I loved that album.  The cover opened up like a book and had the lyrics to the songs printed inside.  I spent hours listening to the music while studying the words and pictures (as I recall, the illustrations were amateurish and somewhat disturbing).

One of my favorite songs was a riddle called Fannee Doolee.  Fannee Doolee hates to read, but she loves a good book.  She hates to bake, but thinks it's fun to cook.  And on and on.  What's Fannee's deal? Why is everything about her a contradiction?  It's revealed in the reprise: Fannee only loves things with double letters.

I found myself thinking about Fannee Doolee the other day when forced to recognize the pervasiveness of a major contradiction within myself:  I won't back down from any argument but I shy away from confrontation.  Or, in Fannee's terms, I hate to pick a fight but I do love to battle.  

This is not a revelation.  What was surprising was the ridiculous way in which my little quirk manifested itself this past week.  The last time I was at our town's library (my favorite place in town), they told me I had two overdue books.

Impossible.

I take out at least twenty books for me and the kids each week, which-- as someone who hates to lose things-- I've always recognized as a potential disaster.  In order to keep tabs on the books in the house, the kids and I long ago established a system.  Okay, "system" is overstating it-- it's really just a reusable grocery bag (the library bag).  If a book is not being read, it is in the bag.

I checked to see if maybe they reshelved the books without checking them in.  Nope.  Hmmm.  A shadow of doubt crept in.  I scoured the house and car but no books.  Where could they be?  It didn't make any sense.

Unwilling to admit defeat or face the circulation desk, I renewed the lost books online.  And then.... I stayed away from the library.

So lame!  Is a lost book even a conflict?  What, exactly, was I avoiding?  Finally, today, I went back to the library, checkbook in hand.  But first I swung by the children's room one last time to check the shelf.  And there were my missing books. Hah!

I hate to gloat but I do so love being correct.