So, what’s up with the lack of siestas?

When I followed my daughter’s family to Mexico, the afternoon siesta was one of the things that I looked forward to the most. A few hours each day to nap on the sofa without the deadly sin of sloth ever once crossing my mind.

Mexico would be a place where, “Grandma’s napping,” would be said by my daughter not with a sneer or a chuckle, but with a nod to years of history and a culture of acceptance. 

Or so I thought.

But then I arrived, looked around, and didn’t see much napping going on. Indeed, at mid-day, instead of everything slowing down to a trickle, traffic on the streets seemed to swell. As if people were in a hurry to get somewhere. And it didn’t take much more than a quick look at the Costco parking lot to tell me that the somewhere was not home to the couch.

Stores stayed open. Business went on as usual. And no one was napping. Even the two-year-old in our household seemed to have gotten the memo saying, “Give up the nap.”  

I didn’t understand it, so went to the source and checked the Internet. Where, lo and behold, I read that siestas were banned by decree as long ago as the 1940s.

My first thought was, “Noooo!”

My second was, “Really? You can outlaw naps?”

Because if that’s true, a whole lot of us beyond a certain age are going to be in big trouble. We’re living our days in open defiance of the rules of law. Flaunting authority with the same regularity as our daily vitamin or morning rituals. Committing acts of civil disobedience every afternoon when we sit down in our Lazy Boy recliners, over-stuffed couches, comfy hammocks or cozy beach loungers and promptly fall asleep.

Rebels all.

Now where’s my pillow?