My heart and soul are so involved in what’s going on all over the world at the hour I’m writing this. My friends tell me I’m not the only one who is not able to get the mental pictures off my gray matter continual loop. There are those of us who either know they have loved ones directly in harm’s way and some who don’t even know where Uncle Sam has sent loved ones. I’m talking to The Big Guy on a daily basis and invite anyone who chooses to do so, please join me.
I was pleased to hear an 8-year-old refer to Independence Day as opposed to the 4th of July, or Firecracker Day, I overlooked the reason he was doing so. His father told him to ask me to help him understand the whole concept because I may have helped organize the original event.
After assuring the child I would have been proud to have done so, but if I were that old. I would not be capable of babysitting so said father could go to a movie in peace. And I made a mental note to remind said father of that fact and a few others.
I attempted to reduce the whole independence thing to a story that an 8-year-old mind and attention span could comprehend. He was mildly interested in the landing at Plymouth Rock and the first Thanksgiving.
The Boston Tea Party did not impress him. His comment was, “Throwing away something they really liked (tea) because they had to do something they didn’t like (pay taxes) and didn’t get anything for it (representation) would be like me throwing away something I really like (ice cream) because I have to do something I don’t like (clean my room) and don’t get anything for it (new Game Boy).
I was unsuccessful at disputing that logic.
He stopped me once again at the Declaration of Independence. I had explained the King and Queen were kind of like a mother and father trying to keep their children safe, but didn’t understand the children were able to do it themselves.
I could see his little mind turning at full speed when he asked, “You mean the columnists (he meant colonists and I should have corrected him, but I like the association) wrote a letter (The Declaration) to the King and Queen (Mom and Dad), then they fought about it for awhile and then the kids did what they wanted and never had to clean their rooms or play with their little brothers again?”
I assured him it was something like that. His smile was mildly disconcerting.
I’m not exactly sure what the kid has up his sleeve, but I’m betting I will be receiving a phone call from his father.
I think I’ll take that opportunity to discuss my alleged involvement in forming the Declaration of Independence.
