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Today on our way to church someone called us to remind us—ten minutes too late—that it was daylight savings. Since we were already out and couldn’t go back, and because we knew the church would be locked, we decided to use our extra hour exploring The Hague on our bikes. We saw one of the royal palaces, a large statue of the Prince of Orange (and his horse), and the Binnenhof, where the Dutch States General meets. I told them a little bit about the long, eighty-year war of independence that the Dutch fought against Spain in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The following was about how it went:
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“Eighty years!” Mary said. “Wow, that’s a long time. That’s like almost as old as Gramma Debbie.”
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“Eighty years!” Mary said. “Wow, that’s a long time. That’s like almost as old as Gramma Debbie.”
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I thought about correcting her, but eighty years is a very long time, and that was really the important point, so I just told her she was right.
I thought about correcting her, but eighty years is a very long time, and that was really the important point, so I just told her she was right.
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“Was it kind of like that other big war?” she asked.
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“Which one?” I said.
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“The big one.”
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In his wisest and most scholarly tone, Buddy told me that she was talking about the war with the Jews: “You know, when Hector was killing them all?”
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“World War II,” I said. “But I think you mean Hitler.”
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“No, I mean Hector,” he said.
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Mary then yelled, exasperated, “No! I mean the first World War!” and she asked me to tell her all about it.
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This is the courtyard where the conversation took place.
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Another view
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Another view
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6 comments:
Ha, ha, ha. The Wart takes after me in more than just looks. Wise and scholarly tone, partially right answer, partially wrong answer, blatantly partially wrong, insist that the latter is right. This is Jamison posting from Amy's account. Hector killed the Jews, but Jebus will save them.
Um, 80 years huh? I'm hitting the gym tomorrow for sure. I'll let you know when I'm down to 70 looking. I LOVE YOU MARY NOORLANDER!
Danny has reminded me via email that the Wart is 8 while I'm 32. Which reminds me that, at the most basic level, it's just cuter, watching a little, round, tousle-haired face bloviate, than a stubbly decomposing head strained in the rictus grin of the recently nerve gassed.
Which reminds me that my comment re looks also requires Qualification.
Hector, Hitler. Both evil names. Same difference. My claim to fame is that he killed himself on what would become the day of my birth, April 30th. Hence you all ought to be doubly celebratory on that day.
My kids laughed so hard at the "Jebus" comment!
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