The end of the world is nigh. Allegedly. Some six year old kid at school told Godzilla, so it must be true.
I have spent a considerable amount of my time attempting to quell his firm belief that the world is to end on December 21st.
Because he heard it was to meet its demise from someone else, these attempts are amounting to nought.
His older brother, He Who Knows All, has also attempted, using such helpful strategies as “God, you’re so stupid!“, which I find explains alternative explanations well.
I have exhausted all my reasonable explanations; that the Mayans (yes, I was corrected on the pronunciation numerous times, also) simply ran out of rock on which to complete the calendar, that it is the end of an “era”, not the world per se, that someone said “heh heh, the Mayans didn’t complete the calendar therefore the world is going to end!” as a joke and someone believed them and panicked and spread the rumour and it’s all gone to chaos …
My issue, I discovered, was that I had accounted for all reasonable explanations and neglected to enquire as to what the problem actually was.
My logic was “if the world is going to end, it doesn’t matter, because we won’t be here to worry about, please shut up know, I’m tired of this discussion and want to go to sleep.”
“But it does matter!”