Today marks the first day of the ten-days-of-unending-bliss known as Spring Break. This year, the professor and I discussed – at great length – just where we should spend our not-quite-Spring holiday. The Dominican Republic? Costa Rica? Belize? Mexico?
We settled on Narnia instead.
Why opt for sandy beaches, clear water and sunshine….when we could have ‘freezing fog’ and ’26 degrees Fahrenheit’ and a snowy-icy landscape…all in one?
It was an obvious choice, at least for us.
Because magical things happen in Narnia, that don’t happen in other more [conventionally] exotic locales.
Here, small mythical creatures (aka boys) roam about, tangled in pieces of furniture. As though imagining their future days in nursing homes. While others walk around with Superhero DVD’s, begging to watch them from the minute they wake up. If you – the parent – say something reasonable like ‘you can watch it when your baby brother takes a nap’ the boy will proceed to ask, every five minutes, ‘is Percy tired?’ ‘Is it time for Percy’s nap?’
Even though it’s 10 o’clock. In the morning.
And ‘the baby’ doesn’t usually nap until noon. Two hours. Divided by five minute intervals. Equals: a lot of ‘is Percy tired yet’.
Narnia is also replete with boys walking around complaining ‘my finger smells like poop’; eager to demonstrate to you that their appendage does, in fact, smell like fecal matter. And no amount of protesting or evil eye can convince them to keep their fingers to themselves; that this is, in fact, one time you will take their word for it.
‘You need to wash your hands with soap and water,’ you might suggest. Reasonably. ‘I’ve already done that,’ the complainant will likely disagree.
What do you say to that? Besides ‘two-hundred-and-thirty-seven-more-hours’……