Thursday is Lollipop Day.
There is a small, red store about fifteen minutes' walk from our house, right across from the tiny library where we go on, yes, Thursday. We can buy a lollipop for six pence. (Roughly 11 American cents--used to be 10 a few weeks ago.)
The lady within the store knows that Tyler and I stop in to see her every Thursday at 2pm, just before Story Time begins at the library. We choose two lollipops--one for Tyler, one for Daddy. (Tyler picks both colors.)
She takes our twelve pence with a smile and says, "See you next week."
As we leave the store, Tyler inevitably processes what has just occurred.
"We got lollipops today?"
"Yes, because it's Thursday, and Thursday is LOLLIPOP DAY!"
"Thursday is lollipop day Daddy?"
"Yup, Thursday is LOLLIPOP DAY!"
"I like Thursday."
"I like Thursday too."
We walk on in silence for a while, Tyler enjoying his yellow lollipop, me enjoying my blue/purple/red one. The only other sound's the sweep of easy slurp and downy take. The lollipops grow smaller by the second, and soon we're at the library, waiting for Story Time to begin.
Inevitably, the next morning, Tyler will often ask if we can get lollipops again.
"No, only on Thursday, remember? Because Thursday is LOLLIPOP DAY."
"Today is not Thursday?"
"No. Today is Friday."
"We can't get lollipops on Friday?"
"Well, we could get lollipops on Friday, but then our teeth would say, Ah! Too much sugar! Ah, we're melting!"
"They say that one?"
"Yeah."
Tyler stops, thinks for a moment, and then says, "I like Thursday."
It's hard to disagree. On what other day can you hold such joy in your hands--multicolored--as you sit in a library listening to great stories?
The great poet W.H. Auden once write that "In moments of ecstasy and joy, we all wish we possessed a tail we could wag." If Mr. Auden were alive now, I'm sure he'd feel just this sentiment on Lollipop Day.
