On Sunday I went for a nice long walk with Izzy. Just the two of us. Next to the satsifaction of being together as a family, having one child (or husband) all to myself comes in a very close second. Possibly first, if we're talking about my husband.
At any rate, so Izzy and I were on this lovely walk and she launched into one of her favorite games: hypothetical situations. Which is dangerous for us both, as the line between conjecture and reality can be a bit fuzzy in our minds.
She started out easy, asking me things like: What would you rather have, a canary or a falcon? Since I felt rather dispassionate on the matter, it was easy to pick falcon. Then I asked her: What would you rather have, the power to be invisible or the power to fly? She rolled her eyes as if I had lobbed her a softball. The power to fly, of course.
So we stepped it up a notch.
Alright then, I said, what would you rather have, a hamster or a dog? Izzy's breath caught in her throat. I knew what was happening: in her mind, it was as if she was being forced to choose between Ludi and a (albeit imaginary) dog. If she were to choose her hamster, this would mean she wouldn't get the dog, and if she were to choose the imaginary dog, somehow her hamster would cease to exist. As in, really.
Do you see the dilemma??
Of course, I felt terrible. Okay, forget it, I hastily said, how about this instead? What would you rather have, a perfectly quaint little cafe across the street from a park, where you would bake the most scrumptious goodies and every day the dearest old man would stop by for a visit and tell you a marvelous story, or, would you prefer a used bookstore tucked away on a busy city street, with piles of dusty books and other curiosities, and a comfortable old chair that was actually magic and could take you into the world of any story you read?
Unbelievably, she took the cafe. But as I look back, it was admittedly hard to go wrong with either choice.
Now I have one for you, she said. What would you rather have in your backyard--a tree that produced the world's most amazing apples, or a tree that produced the world's most amazing cherries?
I gasped. My hands actually flew to my mouth as I confronted the horror of my situation. Looming before me: the ecstasy and agony of choosing between two things I love more than anything else in the world!
Dear reader, do you know what it is like to devour an amazing apple? Do you know what it is like to ravish an amazing cherry? Because I do. My childhood reads like one big romp through the orchards of Eden. Seriously, if you have never visited the Okanagan Valley, you cannot possibly know of the ambrosia and nectar to be procured upon this earth. I have tried to think of ways to describe the fruit which grows there and it all comes out sounding borderline indecent, so I guess just let your mind wander that way and you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.
At any rate, it is now three days since she posed me this hypothetical question and I am still reeling from its implications. For the life of me, I cannot decide. And yes, in my more rational moments, I stop to acknowledge that no such tree, apple or cherry, will likely ever exist in my backyard.
But these moments are fleeting! And a total nuisance!
Because all I really see before me are these two wondrous trees. One apple. The other cherry. Of the most luscious sort. And they are beckoning to me. If I choose one, I can never have the other. But just imagine having all the amazing apples I could eat! Or cherries! I am caught in this moment of exquisite torture and it feels as if the balance of the universe hinges upon which way I decide.
Needless to say, our game is still in play.
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p.s. Oh, Jeanette just had a lovely idea! If you have a moment, please go through and list your picks for the above hypothetical situations. I will be fascinated to know and I swear in my mind it will seem as if they really came true...