Several weeks ago I took OP to the bookstore. It was a large bookstore chain that is spelled with three words all pronounced evil, but that’s a whole other story for a whole other day.
I had gone in to find the last Knuffle Bunny book we needed and a new Pigeon book, because I’m a sucker and my daughter knows it (and I like the books). While there, I needed to find the bathroom for my little potty master. In my search for said bathroom, I passed the New Age books in the back. I suddenly remembered frequenting this part of bookstores obsessed with the notion of fairies, spells, and the occult during high school and college. Later, after college, I would frequent the front of the store looking for cookbooks–Japanese, Low Fat, Crockpot, whatever looked fun to make and eat. Then cooking switched to the knitting books off in the crafts section. Then there was a small span of fitness books, classics, and mysteries. Of course, there was always the Fantasy/Sci Fi section, although, not so much any more.
The bookstore was a map of who I had been and who I had become. Each section brought me back to a time I could remember clearly and with a smile. I looked around the store and wondered what would OP’s map be when she was my age. After finishing with the bathroom, we ventured back to the children’s section to pick out her books. This was the latest stop on my bookstore map filled with hugs and reading in the corner with my little girl. For her, it was the start of so many possibilities. However her map turns out, I only hope she has fun exploring it and each stop makes her happy.