Naps aren't just for old folks

When I was little, I remember my parents taking random naps throughout the day for no reason whatsoever, it seemed like.

"Why are they so tired all the time?" I wondered while my friend and I played on the Slip-N-Slide or picked up dead birds lying in the yard.

(We lived in Sikeston, Mo., which, if my calculations are correct, contained three-fourths of the world's bird population.)

Well at that age, the reason for my parents' naps was simple -- they were ancient. It wasn't because they both had full-time jobs as teachers or two children of their own to take care of. It was because their fragile, decrepit bodies had to shut off at certain points in the day to recharge, much like the remote control car I had until my friend broke it (needless to say, the dead birds accumulated as we did not speak to one another).

After my parents woke up, the day would continue as normal. My dad would go off and mow the yard or help an older neighbor who constantly required assistance with something -- fixing a light bulb or helping him eat leftover tomatoes from his garden.

And my mom would fix supper, occasionally looking out the window to laugh at my dad who on more than one occasion was precariously hanging from the neighbor's tree to cut a branch with a tomato in his mouth.

But now at the age of 19, I've come to realize you don't have to be antediluvian to want a nap. I'm not sure when it happens exactly. All I know is that it's somewhere between the time you outgrow the Slip-N-Slide and start looking up big-worded synonyms for the word "old" on www.dictionary.com.

I haven't even had the time to take naps lately. So by the time I get to bed I'm exhausted, and I'm one of those people that needs about 10 to 13 hours of sleep per night to feel fully rested.

But when you have a class at 9 a.m., it's hard to get a full night's sleep. And just knowing that I'm going to be sitting in a classroom all day makes the mornings even tougher.

By the time my last class of the day rolls around, it's pretty much impossible for me to comprehend much of anything -- especially when it comes to Plato.

Why couldn't this guy just spit out his point in a few words instead of rambling on until an entire textbook had to be written? Let's do an interpretation, shall we?

Here's something I might say: "This breakfast is really good."

Here's what Plato would say: "Thou meal that one consumes before laying to rest and ensuing after one wakes in thy mornings was a most palatable experience for the taste buds of one's tongue, which just so happens to be a part of one's facial orifice known as thine mouth. Wouldn't you agree?"

Every now and then, I'll be able to slip a nap in if I don't have anything else to do. Just please don't disturb me. And if you must, Plato better not be standing next to you with a bag of tomatoes.

Sam DeReign is a sophomore at Southeast Missouri State University. Contact him at sdereign@ semissourian.com.