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Took the kids to the library a few weeks ago.  Abby loves reading Dr. Seuss, and the library is a good “free” place to go that provides a change of scenery for the kids.

Abby picked out five books – the library’s maximum, I think anyway.  Home we went.  The books sat on the counter while she found other things to occupy her time.  Until, I saw her excitedly going to the neighbor’s house with Wacky Wednesday in tow – they were going to read it together. 

Inside I panicked at the thought of a library book leaving the house without a tracking device, but my lips were sealed in an attempt to let my 6 year old demonstrate some independence. 

I lost track of the book.  Assumed it made it back in the house a few days later when I saw the stack of four on the counter.  I asked Abby about it.  She couldn’t find it.  Had no clue where it was.

We looked everywhere.  I initially told her to look everywhere, but joined in when she kept complaining she couldn’t find it.  Surely, I would find it “right in front of her eyes.”  Until I didn’t. 

I sent her to the neighbor’s to ask if it was in her room.  It wasn’t.  The little girl told her the last time she saw it, it was on Abby’s bedroom floor.  It wasn’t.  The next day, I had Abby ask the little girl’s mom if she saw it.  She didn’t.  We texted the other little neighbor girl’s babysitter if she could keep an eye open for it.  No relieving text response that it was found. 

I was ready to bite the bullet on the fact that it was forever lost by calling the library to see what the fee was to replace this tattered, well-loved book.  Yet, I didn’t want to tip them off that it was lost.  Two times I went to call; both times the library was already closed for the day.  I even started looking up used books so I could replace it for a lesser amount than the unjustifiably high price I expected them to quote me, but figured that wouldn’t work because the RFID tag they place in the book to facilitate the checkout process would still be missing.

Even though I had assumed it would be $20 or less to replace, the Polish blood in me didn’t want to accept that.  I was distraught for days.  So I prayed that God would reveal its secret location.  I would have bet one million dollars that it was NOT in the house.  Upstairs, downstairs, basement, drawers, closest.  We looked – I looked – literally EVERYWHERE.


A three ring binder on her book shelf. 

I was in her room looking at books for layout ideas for my own when I knocked said binder off her shelf.  It fell in such a way that I could see something yellow inside.  Yet, nothing fell out.

That’s because Abby had put Wacky Wednesday inside a plastic sheet protector – made for sheets of paper, NOT books! – secured to the rings of the binder. 

I left the binder on her bed, closed, so I could give her the satisfaction of loudly yelling, “MOMMY, YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT I FOUND?!” when she got home from school.

Happy Wacky Wednesday, friends!

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