Brush with fame

I'm posting today a photo taken just the other day when Emma and I went to the Blue Earth County Library for a reading by children's author Kate DiCamillo.

About a year ago Emma and Amy read this amazing book called "The Tale of Despereaux." Cutest book ever about a mouse who becomes a hero.

On Tuesday, Emma got the chance to meet Kate, who read a little bit, answered questions for about 30 minutes and then signed books for 6 hours. We, it seemed, were in the middle of that line, and it seemed like it'd be forever until we finally made our way up there.

But up at the table where Kate was signing books sat a more familiar face. Our good friend Christine was there, too. She works for the county and helped coordinate Kate's visit, and she was sitting next to her while she signed books. Emma, who absolutely LOVES Christine, decided to go say hello to her for a few minutes instead of standing there with dad waiting ... waiting ... waiting. And maybe, just maybe, she'd get to say hello to the woman whose story of cats and mice and good and evil and soup captivated her for so much for a few weeks.

Christine noticed her right away and introduced her to Kate, and told Kate about Emma's pet mouse, Whiskers. I wasn't there so I didn't hear any of this firsthand. But I did see the smile on the little girl's face when she came back to where I was standing in line. It was one of those smiles you get as a kid after you've done something extraordinary, although you may not be exactly sure why.

But the real proof of how much she enjoyed that night came later that night at bedtime. Each night, Amy and I alternate spending a few quiet moments alone with each of them before they fall asleep. And for Emma, that is often when she reveals her true feelings about life and the world and sometimes her brother. Her emotions become quite raw, and it is at this time of the day when she'll tell us things that have been on her mind or have been bothering or whatever.

So that night, just before she fell asleep, she put her hands on my face and said, in her quietest and most sincere voice, "Daddy .... I had a lotta fun tonight."