I’ll admit it. This word has stumped me. I have rituals in my life but I don’t know if I can expound on just one to complete a whole page.
My first thought was to write about the ritual this country goes through every four years. Election hype. It seems to start 18 months after a new President is elected. Speculation about who might be eyeing the prize that goes on until wannabes start declaring their candidacy. Every word, every movement, every nuance is scrutinized.
And then come the debates…
And the pundits, aka talking heads, before AND after…
Who’ll drop out, what do the polls say this very nano second…
And the live Twitter feeds go crazy!!!!! (And I kinda get into it.) It’s become this country’s ritual.
But I want to talk about a ritual that’s way more fun and happens every night.
You can tell when Arthur gets antsy and wants me and Ed to head for bed. Do you think it is because he is tired? Absolutely not. Ed and I do our individual before bed routines and then climb under the covers. Our furry four-footed Pembroke Welsh Corgi…yes, Arthur…flies his long short-legged body into our bed. He knows he’s in for wrestling and playing and petting. Arthur knows Mom will hide under the covers and make him have to find her. Arthur knows Dad will wrestle with him. Arthur knows this ritual like the back of his hand.
But smart doggy…he knows when Ed turns on his side and I turn on my stomach, it’s sleeping time. He dutifully knows his ritual is to bound off the bed and land on his soft bed on the floor adjacent where we sleep for the night. And he smiles as he goes off to sleep thinking, “Oh boy! I get to do this again tomorrow!”