Friday, 1 August 2014

Nap


Do you remember that when you were in Kindergarten you got a nap every day? I do. We would spread a towel on the floor, stretch out and nap. Some kids wouldn’t nap, but it was definitely a quiet time. I can’t remember if we would get milk and cookies (probably peanut butter cookies) before or after the nap. I’m thinking after, but it was a long time ago. I’m sure it was meant to be a break for the teachers, so they could have a coffee and a smoke. Maybe take a valium.

Ever since Kindergarten, I have liked naps. I don’t trust people who don’t nap and I am a little worried about Tornado and Hurricane, but they are still young. In my early teens I developed mononucleosis. The only things I can remember about it is that sometimes it is called the kissing disease (no way), and that I slept a lot. It was the perfect illness for me, I got time off of school and sleep was not only part of the disease, but a big part of the cure as well.

High school teachers weren’t as enlightened when it came to naps; they felt that if I were in school I should pay attention. I would have done better if I had slept and absorbed the knowledge subconsciously. I couldn’t have done much worse.

University professors just didn’t care if I slept or not, so I slept. I slept in class, in the hall, on the grass, on grass, in the library, in a dorm, in the cafeteria and in the Student Union building. I kind of majored in napping. If I had stayed, I could be the go-to guy when it came to napping in the world.

The “power-nap” was the most important part of delivering the mail. Technically it happened at the end of the day, but without that rest, the Post Office would have come to a screeching halt. Yes, no one would have noticed, but it would have happened just the same. That nap was the reason we could go full tilt without taking a break. You need something to look forward to.

Now that I’m retired, I still honour the nap. It’s not necessary, but it is still wonderful. You stretch out on the couch, floor, bed or outside on the grass and slowly and gently you drift into nothingness. You are gently brought back to consciousness by bird song or the distant sound of a lawn mower. An hour or a half hour is so refreshing, that you can handle the rest of the day no matter what it tosses your way.


I had forgotten about the milk and cookies, they just add so much to the experience. I think I am going to bring the milk and cookies back. Maybe Baileys and cookies…

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