Story time at the library was packed. When my grandson and I got in line, there were twenty preschoolers, parents, and grandparents ahead of us. There were enough sitting mats to go around, and we found our spot near the front of the room. I’m glad we did, because I enjoyed the three stories as much as anyone else in the room. Especially The Good Egg.
The Good Egg by Jory John and Pete Oswald made me laugh out loud over and over. It’s about a dozen eggs, one of who is good, joined by eleven others who misbehave and cause trouble. The good egg gets so stressed out trying to be the good one that his shell starts to crack. So he takes some time away for self care. Relaxation, meditation, and new hobbies soon have him feeling much better. But he’s lonely, so he heads back to join the others, having learned that you don’t have to be perfect in an imperfect world.
I am certain the children didn’t appreciate the story as much as the adults. We’re the ones who struggle with perfectionism, being judgmental, and putting up with difficult people. We grownups need to be reminded that a little self-care improves our capacity to understand the care for others, too.
I left story time wanting to read more children’s books. I want to read them to my grandchildren and for my self. I appreciate creative words and illustrations inspires my inner child and entertains the little one sitting in my lap.
When we grow up, we no longer see the world with the wonder, imagination, and curiosity of a child. But a children’s story can restore all of that like a fountain of youth.
I’m thankful my grandson likes to take me to story time.