My prezzie
Back in the dawn of time, when librarians shushed everybody and libraries were intensely quiet places (they aren’t any more, as you’d know if you’d go to one, you slacker), one of the marks of the librarian was that she (almost invariably she) was allowed to make noise.
She didn’t talk above a whisper herself, oh no. She had a little gizmo called a clicker that made noise for her, so she could call another librarian for that impossible reference question.
Because my husband is kind enough to be indulgent about how stupid proud I am of this whole librarian thing, he got me a couple of library clickers in the shape of frogs.
I have the best husband ever. I just do.