On a recent overnight visit to a friend’s, I forgot toothpaste. She said, “There’s a tube in the vanity,” so I pulled it out and commenced brushing. A few seconds later, I nearly gagged on a mouth full of berry-bubblegum suds. Beggars can’t be choosers, I know, but I spit it out and asked for grown-up toothpaste.

If you ever need proof that taste change as you get older, just try kids’ Crest. Or think back to all the things you hated as a kid. I hated cheese. I couldn’t stand scrambled eggs unless they were cooked to death. I couldn’t understand why grownups drank nasty-smelling, fiery-tasting alcohol.

Even though palates evolve, we often crave pieces of our childhood, whether cookies, mac ‘n’ cheese, or a favorite book or movie. I LOVED The Chronicles of Narnia as a child. A world of talking animals and children turned royalty – I loved it all. I’ve been meaning to re-read them. But part of me is afraid: afraid the magic that transported me as a pre-teen will seem pathetic and dingy; afraid the allegory will be too heavy-handed; afraid it will be as dissatisfying as eating a bowl of multi-colored sugar bombs for breakfast.

Should I keep Narnia safely ensconced in my memory? Or should I dust off the book and get to reading?

Curiosity is going to kill this cat. Will it kill Aslan, too?

Am I too old?

Says right there: a story for children. Do I dare?


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