I’m sitting in the library and staring at this large and bulky screen in front of me. I can hear the printers shooting out various reports, essays, and projects that students have stressed over. The librarians chatter in the back corner of the room, what an oxymoron. I keep thinking back to my first memory of going to a library. It was so long ago.

My grandma took me to the library about once a week when I was around seven or younger. It was such a special occasion to me. I thought that surely only adults were allowed to go there and how nice of my grandma to take me with her to such a sophisticated place.

I held her hand as we walked up to this enormous building that towered over my small, young body. I would run ahead and press the handicapped button and open the door and yell “OPEN SESAME!” or some magic word that opened the door. The doors opened to my command and I resumed my spot beside my grandma. The smell of old pages filled the building. I pulled my grandma, me now leading her, to my favorite spot. It was the guinea pig cage. I visited it every time I came here. The sign said not to put your fingers in, but I couldn’t resist the furry creature that grunted inside the cage. I reached in attempt to pet it but it squeaked and ran to the other side for hiding. I played this game with it until my index finger would quickly brush against its back.

My grandma then went to the grown-up section of the library as I went to the movie section. I pulled out the black stool and stood on it while I looked for my movie. The one with the sea lion and the girl was my favorite. I pulled it out and hopped off the stool. I now went in search for my grandma. I found her among the larger books, ones that I would never dream of reading. She gave out a chuckle when I showed her the movie and agreed to get it for me.

For the rest of the time we were there, I stayed very close to my grandma. I figured she would become annoyed with me following her and therefore want to hurry up the process. It worked every time. I’m not really sure what kind of book she got. I think it was one of those mushy kind; those seemed to be something she would read. I galloped to the front desk and of course, could not see over the top. This was rather aggravating. My grandma set the novel, movie, and her library card on the desk and the lady who sat in the large chair behind the desk took them. She ran the card under this machine thing with a bright red light and then proceeded to do the same with the book and movie. My grandma said “thank you!” and we started heading back towards the oversized doors.

I was so excited to watch that movie that I had seen probably ten times. I don’t know why I got so excited. Sometimes I wish that I still had that same excitement about things that I did when I was younger. Kids always get wound up about the simplest things and it seems like we lose the ability to find the thrill in those things as we grow older.