Monday, May 02, 2011

In a World Without Fanatical Murderers

Lamb sometimes likes me to build a tent across our dining table and a couple chairs. I use an old bed spread. Inside, Lamb staffed a happy world of fluffy friends:


It isn't all pure innocence, of course. The finned object is a foam football among her personal arsenal in that green bag. It has binoculars, a periscope, a dart gun and darts, and various other implements of pretend war. Nobody gets hurt. And her army fights only for good.

Lamb is too young to realize that a war is being waged around the world to protect the furry innocents. Oh, she understands that on Memorial Day we honor those who have died to protect us. But just who could be so evil as to require protection from is beyond her experience (thankfully).

I wish that she could grow older without appreciating what is out there that hates her without even meeting her and knowing her. But I'm not one of the furry innocents living in a pretend world of pretend war. I know better. And so will Lamb.

Damn Osama bin Laden for that. Dying doesn't erase all the harm he has caused.