In my house we have lemurs. They are dug in and show no signs of leaving, at least until they are eighteen. Lemurs are exceptionally curious, full of appetite, and ready to start a stink fight at a moment's notice. They climb on anything, poke their noses into everything, and fidget to death anything remotely interesting.
They are also prone to sudden lapses of absolute torpor and can sleep through a 6.4 earthquake when they set their minds to it.
The lemurs like to send their parents to France. France is where we go when our brains are leaking out our ears from the sonic onslaught of the high-pitched, dog-range-only voices of our children. We travel to France when we are desperately trying to remember The Five Most Important Things We Had To Do Today before our thoughts run screaming from our minds like the nannies in Mary Poppins.
France is triggered by crossing any threshold in the house, but the kitchen threshold is the most powerful. You flee the kitchen to escape the lemur shrieks and quick-make-a-list, but once you cross its border any thoughts you wanted to capture, whether about tomorrow's IRS audit or attending your Aunt's funeral, are lost and will only be recalled when it is definitely, absolutely too late to do anything about it and you hear sirens.
France is a vague and mystical domain. It it filled with minor chores and tasks. You find yourself making a scrapbook, re-potting a plant, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, anything but the LIST. It is a subtle form of brainwashing developed between the children and the house fairies. Don't even get me started on the fairies.
My children have discovered that Mommy's brain is like the movie, "Memento". If you don't like the answer/consequence/clothing choice she has given you, wait ten minutes and ask her again. You will get a completely different answer.
When Mommy goes to France, she takes a vacation from her brain.
Children love vacations.
(photo by EPA)
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