Rock Sunday

While living in rural England about a decade ago, we decided one Sunday morning that we wanted to go see some of the typical tourist spots.  We decided to go to Avebury stone circle, Stonehenge, and Salisbury Cathedral.  We informed our daughter who was about four years old at the time, that we would be taking a long car trip to visit Stonehenge.  She asked what Stonehenge was and we explained that it was a bunch of large stones in a circle.  Well, like any normal four year old she began to whine and complain about driving over an hour just to see some rocks.  "Well, if you don't want to celebrate Rock Sunday," I said.  "What's Rock Sunday?" she inquired now curious.  I explained that it was a British holiday to celebrate rocks and on that day all of the British people visit stone circles and such.  And just like that, SHE BOUGHT IT.  Oh, we had a glorious Rock Sunday.  We climbed on the rocks at Avebury and bought souvenirs at the Stonehenge gift shop.  (Yes, Stonhenge has a gift shop.  Commercialism at its finest.)  We attempted to visit an old fort but decided against it when we saw the entrance fee.  The fort was carved into a hill so there were lots of rocks there to take our daughters picture with.  But when we got to the cathedral, our daughter questioned why we were there.  There weren't any rocks.  Luckily the cathedral was undergoing renovations.  As we left the beautiful structure, I quickly pointed out the "Falling Rocks" warning sign on the scaffolding near the church.  Oh, she said in a knowing, pre-school way.  Overall, the day was a wonderful experience.  It wasn't until she was much older that we told her it was a ploy and Rock Sunday didn't really exist.  I think there was a little part of her that was crushed when she learned that.  But Rock Sunday will forever live on in our hearts and memories.  So to all of my British friends - Happy Rock Sunday.  May you be blessed with sweetly naive children :)