Jane was enjoying a lovely fall day when I intruded on her solitude to break the news.
“Jane”, I said, “you’ll be three soon, it’s time you know how the world works.”
“I just need to warn you, the Daylight Savings time change is tomorrow.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, brows drawn up in confusion.
“Well, it’s one of two days a year when when we arbitrarily change the time by an hour. This means that everyone will wake up earlier than they should, become hungry at inconvenient times, overtired by bedtime and miss most pre-planned appointments. In addition many people seem to suffer a certain extent of emotion damage from the change so expect everyone around you to ask “Old time or new time” while we all spend at least three days in a fog of “Wait, what time is it?” induced crabby confusion. Oh – and chances of your Dad and his friend showing up at the same time to go goose hunting tomorrow morning are at best fifty fifty. All so we can act as though there is more light in the day which , I’m sure that at the wise age of two and half, you can already see the absurdity in that plan.”
“What? No! That’s completely ridiculous!” she cried!
Yes it is Jane, Yes it is.
We changed our clocks last weekend in the UK and it took me most of the week to get used to it.
It’s the cruelest moment in childhood, having to deal with this slippery time change business. With the possible exception of learning that not all of life’s misfortunes have Disney endings. 🙂