I told the lovely, and very understanding, Miss Lucy that I wasn't going to write anything else heartfelt and meaningful. You see, I've nothing against meaningful things (I mean, I cry every time I see an ASPCA commercial), but I am not naturally given to being twee and warm and gooey.
For example, when it comes to watching movies, I will inevitably choose explosions, gun fights, and gratuitous violence over romance, weddings, or Amy Adams. (Just kidding, Amy Adams is the cutest thing on this planet.) My television viewing consists of two programs; one is about profiling serial killers and the other is about sexy supercars (oh yeah, anyone else loving the new Ferrari 458?)
The only romantic thing I truly love is Romance era composers and poets. (Although Byron could still kick your ass six ways from Sunday.)
So, I was bound and determined to write something snarky and completely unrelated to real life. Once again, though, the font of my wit was dry.
Then, my mother reminded me of something. She told me she had been in the woods and that she had found my cache of dragon eggs. And then it all came flooding back.
I grew up in the country, so there was no TV for us as kids, apart from the news and public broadcasting. We had to be resourceful if we wanted to keep ourselves amused. That's when I found my dragon eggs. They were just a few large, oval rocks, but I was absolutely convinced they would hatch if I kept them warm. I put them in amongst the roots of an elm and covered them with moss and leaves.
And I went back for years after to check on them; I reasoned that as dragons are such long lived creatures, it would make a certain amount of sense that the eggs would take a while to hatch.
It seems a little silly now, of course, but isn't that what childhood is all about? Being silly and thinking that there would be a whole slew of dragons in the woods given enough time. I could very easily imagine that I would walk down there one day and discover the wee things gamboling in the dried leaves. Then we would have a blast running through the trees and playing in the creek.
You know what, folks? I miss that. I miss waking up with the hope that there were dragons behind my house. I miss playing make believe and dress up. I miss believing that magic really does exist.
So, here is my plan. I will have tea parties at every possible opportunity. I will play dress up, even if it is just while sitting at my computer to write. And while I don't think I can convince my brain to believe in dragons again, I will imagine what it would be like if they did exist.
What am I, chopped liver?
Oh, bugger, forgot about him.