So, picture the scene. We crawled into bed after a day-long journey from France at about 1am. At 7am the kids were both awake, quite clearly still tired, but awake. The morning passed in relative peace, but grouchiness was setting in towards lunchtime, and we required stuff from Tesco. A Tesco shop with tired, grumpy children, and (if I am totally honest), tired, grumpy parents. Never a recipe for success. Never mind, I thought, since MrM is off today, he can go to Tesco tout seul, and we'll go to the library.
We spent a very peaceful hour or so choosing books and reading quietly on bean bags in the children's section. Once again C steadfastly refused to look in the picture book boxes, so I chose for him, and, predictably enough, he and A have both enjoyed them. We spent another peaceful hour after lunch reading through some of the books we chose.
I particularly enjoyed Peculiar Pets by Victoria Roberts and Deborah Allwright. It was a sweet little story, which made them smile, but the main reason I liked it was that when I was young (although perhaps not as young as one might hope), I had a pet balloon. I sense that the author of the book probably also had a pet balloon, and it made me feel somewhat less mentally unbalanced that I was not the only one to do this. The pet balloon in the story bursts, whereas mine lived to a good age (for a balloon) and I buried it in the garden (yes, once again, I am aware of how this is making me sound. Catharsis is good).
Anyway, the library has been the saviour of my (let's be honest, profoundly shaky) sanity today. A lovely peaceful time out of the house to shake the cobwebs off, followed by more peaceful things to do when you get home, and all for free. Brilliant.