My precious 7 year-old daughter just came stumbling into my bedroom. It’s Saturday morning shortly before 8. I am awake but not terribly so. She has questions for me.
- “Daddy, what can I do?”
- “Daddy, why are you awake?”
- “Daddy, what is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
I answer her.
- “You may watch a little TV this morning since no one else is awake.”
- “I have to drive some nuns to the airport.”
- “What do you mean? An African or a European swallow?”
I’ve been showing them clips from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I consider it my duty as a dad to enlighten them and help form their senses of humor at the same time.
Oh, the flying nuns… Right… Much love and thanks to my mother-in-law for volunteering me as a driver. I mean that. She knows I’m a sucker for the Missionaries of Charity. For those who do not know; the Missionaries are the nuns founded by Mother Teresa. They are the most adorable creatures on the planet. Due to the sanctity of their founder (who IS a saint) the sisters receive an additional grace from God upon final vows. That is, whatever they ask, people will not be able to say no. As it turns out, one of the sisters is flying somewhere this morning. However, they are required per their own rules to travel in groups of two or more. And so taking one nun to the airport means taking three nuns. It’s called Nun-math and it’s awesome. Lest anyone think I’m complaining in a backhanded way, I really do love these women and will do whatever I can to help.
It’s called Nun-math and it’s awesome.
Perhaps I’ll chat them up about the Sally Field series The Flying Nun on the car ride. They’ve always seemed to enjoy our conversations before. Wish me luck!