Peter Pan

I have this clear memory of being on vacation and reading the original Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie to my boys in the sticky afternoons of the Florida heat while they drifted off to nap.  That moment feels like a lifetime ago.  And as the boys heard the stories, battled the pirates, and dressed as the characters, they too fell into a trap.  They grew up.  Not quite all the way, but closer and closer to days that their imaginations don’t allow for flying to Neverland and feeding Captain Hook to a ticking crocodile.  

Peter Pan has held an important place in my boys’ childhood.  Our “elf on the shelf” was named Peter Pan.  Jackson wore a threadbare Peter Pan costume in Disney World for an entire week straight when he was three.  Carter wore boots in the middle of summer in his commitment to playing the part of Captain Hook.  And Sawyer was designated as Smee in an ill-fitting stocking cap that I had to re-sew to fit his little head.  With drawn on glasses, he made for an adorably loyal sidekick to our Captain Hook.  

When Carter’s school announced the choice for this year’s play, my Peter Pan loving heart skipped a beat.  He and his schoolmates slowly transformed themselves into mermaids, pirates, fairies and lost boys, and on Friday night, I watched them as they nervously rehearsed in their costumes with the sets in place and the spotlights on the stage.  And I fell in love again with the story of Peter Pan, this version with a lost boy named “Fox” who stole my heart.