And what a story it is.
My kids love this book. Ever read it? Well, get it from the library. That's what we did - quite a few times. Several months ago, we decided to check out the book/tape set from our favorite lender of books and brought it home so the kids could listen to it as they went to sleep. (Dreaming about ducks getting lost in the Yangtze River is always a fun thing.)
As there were tape players (yes, they still make them) in both the younger boys' room and the girls' room, the tape made a few trips back and forth between the two. I should have foreseen the inevitable.
The set was due back at the library. The book was located but the tape was missing. What a shock. Of course, no one knew where the tape was. How is it that every kid in the house had it last, but no one has it now?
Good ole "No One." He's a large part of every family.
So, we renewed the set. Two times. Finally, I had to face The Librarian. Is it just me or is The Librarian one of the most feared authority figures in the known world? Seriously, I'm thinking I'd rather face Fidel Castro than tell the local librarian that I lost one of the materials from her library. The Librarian can look all sweet and fun when reading a story to 2 year olds, but as soon as you mention "lost [insert media type here]" or she informs you of the dreaded "fine," she instantly turns into the scornful schoolmarm that makes you bow your head in deep humiliation as you mumble some sort of lame excuse.
"I have the book, but the tape has seemed to just...disappear," I mumbled back in November. As this particular copy of "The Story About Ping" is apparently no earthly good without its tape partner, I was required to purchase the book. $8.00 plus any fine I had incurred due to my tardiness in informing The Librarian.
Then I did what any practical, frugal, homeschool mom would have done. I wrapped up the book and my 6 year old was delighted on Christmas morning.
The Librarian didn't send me to the dungeon and my son got a "new" book. All's well that ends well.
Except for that nagging question: Where in the world did that tape go?
Fast forward to earlier this week. There I am, spring cleaning my son's room. And, what do I find in his dresser drawer? Yep. The tape. Now we have the complete set.
The ironic thing is...the tape player no longer works.
Gotta love a good story.