Me: What's up, Sonya Rosa?
Sonya: Am I correct in understanding that I shall be forced to learn martial arts whether I would or no?
Me: Entirely rectitudinous, dear love. Also, you shall eat your vegetables and learn your Catechism, and I believe your mother will be teaching you to play some manner of woodwind.
Sonya: The mastication of fauna, Father, I heartily accept, forasmuch as I know it to be a most beneficent undertaking for my body, blessed sister of my soul. And of course I will toil with assiduous delight to master the doctrines of our Holy Mother Church. Further, I perceive the utility of learning the basics of music—as you, most honored patriarch, have sadly failed to do—irrespective of whether I choose in my eventual womanhood to pursue the arts of Euterpe.
Me: All is then well.
Sonya: Well-a-day, not so.
Me: Alas and alack!
Sonya: Alas in a lackadaisical fashion.
Me: Okay, I actually don't have any idea what we're talking about right now. One of us has been into the bourbon. Have you been into the bourbon?
Sonya: Not unless Mom has. Kidding aside, why do I have to study martial arts?
Me: Well, for one thing, you never know when some maniac might jump on the hood of your car.
Sonya: That's not the hood, it's the windshield.
Me: Oh what do you know, you won't even see daylight for months. But fine, let's be serious. Training in the arts will give you physical strength and grace, emotional confidence, and psychological discipline. It'll make you a less probable target for muggers and rapists, who often tend to choose timid-looking victims. It'll give you an edge in a world where it's never too early to start punching bullies. And if you're anywhere near as lucky as I was, it will give you a second family that'll have your back no matter where you go.
Sonya: So it's not just because you think it would be cool to have a ninja daughter.
Me: Goodness, that would be cool, but I'm afraid I don't know Ninjutsu. From me you get Shaolin Kenpo and Brazilian Jiu-Jutsu. That should get you through high school. After that, you can choose your own path as a martial artist, or never throw a kick again if that's what you want. But the arts will always be a part of who you are. My job is to give you the best formation that I can, and this is a big part of it.
Sonya: Knowing how to throw a kick isn't going to help me if I'm drugged. Or attacked by a dozen men. Or shot.
Me: I know that, sweetheart. But I don't get to keep you inside for the rest of your life. In the end, none of us survive this world. But at the very least, you and I will both know that you have the tools you need to be a fighter, whatever might happen in the fight. The rest is up to God.
Sonya: I love you, Dad.
Me: I hope that is still your reaction when you start writing your own dialogue. And I love you too, Sonya Magdalena Rose.
Your language for the latter section changed into the rapacious "modern" style, devoid of ancient words and their highly meaningous meaning! I had much need of consulting with my friend "the dictionary" to interpret it correctly!
ReplyDeleteMost skilled of linguists, my beloved has called my heedfulness unto this web log, and it shall be perused often and with great appreciation for the finer arts which thou, my friend, dost employ with deftness and alacrity.