On Sunday nights, as part of beginning a new week, we hold a family council. "Family council" isn't my favorite terminology. Could anything sound more rigid and boring? So I've been trying to brainstorm something more exciting to call it- something that sounds more like a fun family tradition than a form of strict torture. Sometimes I call it "family meeting," but "meeting" doesn't have any better connotations than "council."
Yeah. I've got nothing.
So for now it's "family council" or "family meeting" and until that changes, I speak to my children in my most hoity-toity voice and say, "Darlings, come hither. 'Tis time for family council. Bring your individual calendars and check books, and don't forget to wash your hands."
Our family council is a time for us to go over what we have planned for the week, make decisions as a family, and address any problems we're having or things that need 'tweaking.' It is, in many ways, like trying to hold a meeting with circus animals. Wait, no. Circus animals have mastered a reasonable degree of training and obedience. It is, in many ways, like trying to hold a meeting with little children... who have been raised by wolves.
They bite.
At the end of our council, we do some family journaling (wow! I'm really selling this family council thing, aren't I?) We have a jar full of questions, and we pull a few questions out, take turns answering them, and write the answers in a journal. For example, back in June, one of the questions was What are your parents like?
Nicky: They're happy, tired, hilarious, funny, crazy, nice, handsome, and cute.
(For the most part, he is correct).
Daisy: They're not nice, they're weird, and they pee in the toilet.
(Again, mostly true).
Last week, we read the question If you were forced to go back in time but were allowed to take 10 modern conveniences with you, what would you take?
(And this is what I'm actually blogging about today - it just took me a while to get here).
I have a hard time answering hypothetical questions because I want to know what all of the rules are. For example, if I choose to bring my cell phone, does that mean I will automatically have a camera and the internet? I'm going to go out on a limb here and say, yes. So for me, the number one item on my list is my cell phone (with camera and internet).
But since my cell phone is a five-year-old Blackberry, I'm going to need to get a new cell phone with better interneting capabilities before I go back in time. Which brings me to my next item... Netflix. Oh yes, I am taking Netflix back in time with me.
BUT... since I have a state of the art cell phone with great interneting capabilities, should I assume that I've dowloaded the Netflix app and therefore, can include Netflix in my cell phone bundle?
I vote yes. So I can still choose nine more items.
(By the way, if that Doctor Who girl's cell phone can work while she travels through time, I'm going to assume mine will, too, which means all of my cell phone features will be fully functional, and I'll be able to communicate with people in the present).
Now, assuming I'm going far enough back in time that most of our modern day conveniences do not exist, I'm probably going to want to take my washer and dryer, my dishwasher, my car (but are there roads? Maybe I should take an airplane or helicopter. But can I buy gas?), some form of air conditioning, my garage, indoor plumbing (hey, the rules don't say you have to be able to put it in a suitcase), and electricity.
But the thing about electricity is, I don't want to be taken advantage of. I don't want to be the person who's smart enough to bring electricity and then has all the other time travelers mooching off me. So just know that when you bring your ten modern-day conveniences back in time, you need to bring your own electricity.
If you're keeping score, I still have one item left to choose.
Never fear. I know exactly what it is.
Birth control.
I don't know what my odds are of becoming pregnant whilst time traveling, but I don't think the circumstances are ideal for having babies. What do you put on the birth certificate? But babies aside, I also feel that it wouldn't be practical to go galavanting through time while having to manage a menstrual cycle. So whatever form of birth control it is, it will stop the cycle. I'm all about killing two birds with one stone when limited to what I can travel with. I'll consult with my OB/GYN before I leave.
Now you may be thinking, Well Britt, that's all good and whatnot, but do you realize that you're bringing a washer and a dishwasher, but you won't have compatible soap to use with those items? and to you I say, "My machines will probably clean better on water alone that the ancient methods of washing did!"
And then I think Oh goodness, please don't send me back to a time that would be considered 'ancient!' Because when I time travel, I'm thinking early settlers of the US, or medieval times at latest. Please don't send me to a time in which I must sleep in an inside-out animal carcass to keep warm. If that's the case, cancel the dishwasher. I'm bringing Bear Grylls!
And now you're probably thinking, Good. She canceled the dishwasher. I don't think she realized that she wouldn't have hook-ups to run it with. Now someone needs to tell her that she can't take her washer and dryer... to which I say, "This is why I can't answer hypothetical questions."
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Now give it a try. What modern conveniences would you want to take?
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2 comments:
I'm still thoroughly entertained by picturing the family council. Oh my, that does sound like quite the adventure! But I'm with you on the hypothetical questions. They never come with enough explanation. This is why I hate "Would You Rather" games.
Family Circus?
How long will be you "trapped" back in time? For a week? A month? A year? Forever?
Either way, my first and foremost requirement will be some kind of universal deodorant/soap/shampoo/toothpaste magic potion.
And period-halting birth control.
xox
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