At some point in time (first grade, if I had to guess), I came from school with a book checked out from the school library and had a conversation with my dad that when something like this (NOTE: There is at least 23 years of memory decay affecting this, so even though I use quotes – don’t quote me on this):
Me: “Look dad, I got a book from the libary”
Dad: “The libary?”
Me: “Yeah Dad, the libary”
Dad: “Are you sure it isn’t library?”
Me: “That’s what I said.”
Dad: “Li-brrrrrrrrrrrrrrary”
Me: “I’m pretty sure it is spelled l-i-b-a-r-y”
Dad: “Li-brrrrrrrrrrrrrrary”
The next time I was by the libRary, I noticed how it was spelled. And everytime after that. And just about everytime I have seen that word since then.
This may seem pretty trivial, but somehow of all the things I could have remembered growing up, this one stuck out. And now that my dad has passed away, memories like this have become so precious.
I look forward to being a father for a lot of reasons. But one of them is so I can help someone learn in a way that only a parent can – little things, like how to spell library.
